You're No Hero
by samptra
Summary: "They found Captain America, the Captain America…the legend himself." He murmured, and with his unthawing it had brought up an entire wealth of emotional baggage he thought he'd buried long ago. TonyxSteve
1. Prolouge

Disclaimer: I do not own, simply borrowing the characters for my own nefarious purposes. Man-Man loving don't like, don't read.

Story: "They found Captain America, _the_ Captain America… the legend himself." The Captain's thawing had brought up an entire wealth of emotional baggage Tony had thought he'd buried long ago.

Author's Note: So this was the first story I ever wrote for the Avengers, it's a lot of sap and fluff and Tony feels…like the majority of my stories. I think Tony takes a lot of heat in some stories. Anyways enjoy! Million thanks to raving beauty getting this beta'd for me!

You're No Hero

Prologue: So very close

1986

"Woohooo!" a small boy of no more than seven hollered with abandon as he ran through the house. His costume was too small for his growing frame and faded from overuse, but still his favorite. A homemade blue hood with paper wings circled his head. As he bounded down the stairs, he waved a cardboard shield sporting the red, white, and blue – the colours of his favorite hero, Captain America.

Small, socked feet pranced as he parried imaginary foes up and down the polished wood. He would crush the evil Hun! Whatever they were. With youthful exuberance, he chased the enemy into his father's study. Slipping as he rounded the corner, he knocked the table his father was working at.

"Anthony!" the man shouted angrily. He glared down at the small, dark haired boy, his own image looking back up at him.

"Sorry, dad," the boy lowered his shield meekly, wincing at his father's anger.

"Get out of here. You know better than to come in my study," he growled and turned back to his work, ignoring the now cowering boy.

Shoulders slumping in defeat, little Tony Stark trudged down the hall to his own room.

"Tony!" his mom slurred and he froze. "Get to bed," she dismissed him callously as she headed to the living room for a refill.

He resumed the walk down to his own room at the end of the hall. Despite the size of the mansion, his room was small. Bunk bed, toys, clothing, and gadgets were all piled together in organized chaos.

At his age, he was hailed as a prodigy. He attended the best schools, had the most expensive tutors. He was destined to be the lasting legacy of Howard Stark. The boy was a genius; he manipulated technology like a sculptor did clay.

He would one day change the world, but for now all he wanted to be was a hero.

Gently he set his cardboard shield and cowl by his bed, climbing into matching sheets, sporting the same motif as his pajamas.

Dark eyes glanced at the poster on the wall; the large figure saluting him with a smile, all the while watching over him in his sleep with those kind blue eyes.

A hero, a champion.

Small hands reached under the bed and pulled out a flimsy metal shield, one of the few things of sentimental value his father had given him.

It was old, with paint peeling and what looked like bullet holes; stars and stripes painted on its tarnished surface. Despite its battered appearance, skinny arms held it close as Anthony Stark closed his sleepy brown eyes.

-#-#-#-

2012

Tony woke with a start, rubbing tired eyes – soft chocolate brown eyes that had aged so much.

He was still seated at his workbench, his back protesting being slumped forward in an uncomfortable position for so long. He ran a callused, worn hand through thick, dark locks; a little longer than his normal style, it had begun to curl slightly.

The man frowned, wondering why he had dreamed of the past. "You know why, Stark," he mumbled, moving to tap at the screen. The unconscious form lay just as he had before Tony dozed off.

"They found Captain America, _the_ Captain America… the legend himself." The Captain's thawing had brought up an entire wealth of emotional baggage Tony had thought he'd buried long ago.

"You were saying something, sir?" the ever-polite voice echoed in his tower lab in New York.

"No. Thank you, JARVIS," Tony answered as he left the monitor running and pulled up an old file. One he'd not looked at in years.

He remembered discovering these in his teens, buried in a file his father had. Since then he'd transferred dozens of the old films to digital in an effort to preserve them.

Tony hit play, eyes avidly watching the black and white footage scroll across the screen. The dashing blond pointed and motioned; Tony knew the Captain was talking, commanding the room, yet these were silent. A familiar pang thrummed in his heart as an old feeling returned.

Tony remembered it all too well.

He'd spent his life trying to impress his father and win his love, only to have his parents die so young, leaving him defenseless. Scared and alone, he'd built himself an image, a shell around his heart, not letting anyone in save a select few – Pepper, Happy, Rhodes… and once he'd thought he had an uncle.

He'd created a persona, almost an alter ego, a playboy billionaire without a care in this world. He'd had a new partner every night, women always on his arm, all for show.

Pepper was the only one who knew the truth, why his run in with terrorism and the subsequent birth of Iron Man had provided him with an escape. Pepper was his buffer, his out; he couldn't love her anymore if she was his real sister.

All he'd ever wanted in life was to be loved for Tony, to have someone love him… for him. The problem was that the only person he'd ever truly fallen for was a man that had died heroically saving the world, the famous Captain America.

Tony had spent a lifetime imagining the man from another time, holding him up as a measure for all others. It had been hero worship in his tender youth, though in his teen and adult years it had turned into something more.

He'd dreamed of what the man would have been like, of being there with him as he stormed a fortress… of holding him at night. The Captain had been so far out of his reach, spanning decades of time.

Now, though, he was so very close.

And any day he could wake. It was as exciting as it was terrifying.

Finished with the movies, he shut the file down and moved onto his latest little pet project, the redesign of an iconic suit. He grinned a little; maybe he could bring the Captain up to date. A hand reaching out, absently touching a faded shield briefly before fingers began to move almost independently across the keyboard.

-#-#-#-

Tony had never been so nervous in his life.

He had met him; _the_ him.

And the best part was he'd been wearing the suit Tony had helped design. As they stood shoulder to shoulder in the courtyard in Germany, his heart had thudded noisily, his ever-present arc reactor betraying his emotions with its bright flickering light.

They had caught Loki together, worked together.

And he was even better in real life than the movies, every inch a solider. Impossibly blue eyes, firm jaw, and lips… those lips made Tony's mind a hot mess.

As they headed back to base, the usually chatty genius had wracked his brain for something to say – something that wouldn't come off badly or make him sound like an arrogant git. Before they could speak more, though, the god of thunder had stolen their prisoner. The ensuing battle royal had soon devolved into Tony rather stupidly, he thought later, going head to head with a demi-god.

If he was being honest with himself, he'd been trying to impress Captain America.

Later he winced as he pulled his armor off. "Dumb, Stark," he mumbled to himself in the cargo hold of the ostentatious flying carrier.

Now the others sat waiting in the meeting room for the first meeting of the Avengers. It was time to go big or go home. Dressed to impress, he donned his persona like he did his Iron Man suit. An arrogant smirk falling easily into place as he headed for the bridge.

-#-#-#-

Tony was trying not to hyperventilate; things had gotten a little heated in the lab. His first impression with Captain Gorgeous had not turned out the way he'd wanted.

The big man's words cut him deeper than he had thought possible.

_You're no hero…_

It made his chest ache, more than the reactor ever had, his blue light dimming noticeably.

There was no time to try and correct what he'd done. After the explosion things moved fast, his shoulder still tingling where the Captain had touched him helping him to his feet. Right now he had to push emotions aside; get this thing going before they plummeted out of the sky.

"Tell me what it looks like," he spoke calmly, despite the pounding fear in his chest. Things were bad. A lot of people were going to die if he couldn't get this sorted fast.

"It appears to run on some form of electricity…" came the frustrated reply.

Tony wanted to laugh; that telling statement was just plain cute. His lips quirked in a smile. "Well, you're not wrong," he mumbled, getting down to business.

-#-#-#-

_How the hell did I get here?_

The thought kept repeating in his mind, as he wrapped battered arms around the nuclear warhead.

Tony was drained, emotionally, physically, and mentally. He was going to end this, though.

"Tony, that's a one way ticket…" a soft voice said, a voice he had hoped to get to know better.

He said nothing in return, chocolate eyes fixed on what he had to do. Hell, even Pepper wasn't answering him. The thrusters burned and his aim was true as he rocketed through the tear in the sky.

Power failing his slack arms fell from around the warhead. He watched until it hit. Closing his eyes then, his mind began to fade.

_You're not a hero…_

Cap had been right.

The hero got the girl, lived to fight another day. One last coherent thought floated around inside his hazy mind as he fell; they'd damn well better close that hole, he thought as the blackness claimed his mind.

-#-#-#-

A sudden roar jolted him awake. The arc reactor in his chest sputtering to life with a dull blue glow.

There were faces above him – Thor, Hulk… and Steve; he chose to focus on that last one. Good god, the man was beautiful, the most wondrous sight his bruised ass had ever seen.

"Hope no one kissed me," he joked weakly, secretly hoping Captain America had tried to revive him with a little mouth-to-mouth. Pain in the ass he wasn't awake for it, though.

They grinned at him in relief.

"We win?" he asked.

The world was suddenly eerily quiet. Steve was all but glowing at him when he nodded.

"Oh, yeah?" Tony asked. "Let's get shawarma. I've never had it but there's this place-" He was babbling and he knew it, but lord, those blue eyes were playing hell with his addled brain.

"We are not finished yet," came the booming voice of Thor, and they all looked upward.

"Oh, right… And then shawarma."

They never quite managed to get there, though. By the time Loki had been rounded up and Fury had blasted them, something akin to pride in his single eye, it was late.

Tony offered the team lodgings in his newly destroyed tower; any room still intact was fair game.

Unfortunately for Tony, his personal room had seen better days; the bed was a charred mess and the far wall was gone. He sighed, limping a little as he headed for his still intact dresser collecting a blanket-wrapped bundle from one of drawers, before heading to his lab.

At least the lab hadn't sustained much damage. Groaning, he settled on the small couch, vowing to install a bed down here for emergencies; he'd slept here more than once in his life.

Settling in, Tony pulled the old shield from the blanket and leaned back against the couch. It had become a security blanket of sorts; he took the thing everywhere. Since the return of the real Captain, though, the shield represented more – a small part of the man he could have and hold.

After all, the real thing was too far out of his reach.


	2. Your room is waiting for you

Author's Note: Aha! Enjoy the fluffy goodness my friends the new and improved beta version! Many thanks ravingbeauty.

You're No Hero

Chapter 1- Your room is waiting for you

Steve Rogers was often called a man out of time.

It was, unfortunately, an apt description. He was a relic of the 1940s, a time so much simpler than now. Things seemed to move so much differently here and people seemed to move so much faster, he couldn't help but feel left behind.

Overwhelmed and confused, he had clung to a small spark of hope he had found – Howard Stark had a son. A son who was a superhero in his own right. Steve had eagerly looked forward to meeting this man, hoping against hope that some of Howard would be there. Howard Stark had been a great friend to him; maybe Anthony Stark could be a great friend as well.

It had not gone well.

Howard Stark's only child had been nothing like him. The difference had made Steve angry, causing him to lash out at the man for no good reason. As the last vestiges of hope disintegrated, his one tenuous connection to this new world had vanished in an instant.

Frightened, he had attacked, saying the worst things… hateful things. And after all the dust had settled following Loki, Steve Rogers had been plagued by guilt. Tony, as he liked to be called, was more than what Howard had been; he was a hero in every sense of the word.

-#-#-#-

The blond man woke in a cold sweat, images of the war dancing in the darkness of his mind. Memories and nightmares were one and the same as they haunted his nights – memories of battles fought long ago, all but forgotten in this place and time. Tonight it had been new battles, and the worst a lifeless metal man falling from the sky.

He rubbed his furrowed brow with a shaking hand. It had been two weeks since they sent Loki and Thor home, two weeks of his own mind and loneliness.

Tony had offered them all accommodations at what was now known as Avengers Tower, but the team had scattered. Bruce promising to return when his work abroad was done, Natasha and Clint had missions to finish, Thor had gone home, and Steve… well, Steve hadn't a good reason not to take Tony up on the offer. Most it had been his own conscience that had stopped him; he'd been so unfair to the man.

Steve was still in New York, though, in a small, Spartan room SHIELD had given him. Drowning in a sea of complex technology, he glanced toward the small, black device they called a cell phone. He had yet to master sending messages through the device, but he could dial and press the green button to call someone.

At the moment his fingers itched to call a certain someone who lived several blocks away. He glanced at the bedside clock, heart sinking when he noticed it was midnight. Too late to call, or possibly too early, he supposed. No doubt Tony would be out somewhere, a beautiful dame on his arm. Howard had always had a woman on his arm; Tony probably got it from his father.

The super soldier stood and climbed out of bed to stand before the open window, letting the night breeze cool fevered skin. They said the city never sleeps; Steve believed it. He exhaled shakily as he stared out at the lights.

He felt like he was going under tonight, like he was standing at the brink, the deep depression threatening to crush him.

Finally giving in, Steve moved to the 'cell phone'. Brow furrowed in concentration, as he gingerly dialed in the only phone number he knew. "Hit the little green button," he murmured, holding the device to his ear, waiting on tenterhooks as it rang, and rang, and rang.

"Stupid, he was sleeping," he chastised himself softly, about to hit the red button when a voice came through.

"Yup. Hello, Cap." It was Tony. He sounded a little out of breath, but it was the nicest sound Steve could have heard. The blond man opened his mouth to speak, drawing a blank; he hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Cap, you ok?" Tony sounded concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied softly.

"It's late to be calling," Tony replied just as softly. Steve closed blue eyes in pain.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Goodnight, Tony." He pulled the small device from his ear hitting the red button, Tony's instructions echoing in his head, _green for go… red for stop. _

He looked down at the now silent technology, vainly hoping it would ring.

-#-#-#-

Several blocks away in the now more airy Stark Tower, the owner was looking curiously at his own phone.

Tony stood in the middle of his gym clad in only sweat pants. A notorious insomniac, he rarely slept when he was working on a new project or his nightmares got the best of him. Tonight it had been the nightmares.

Feeling very alone and decidedly sorry for himself, the genius had decided to give the punching bags a go. He'd had them installed for Captain America, but as the man had yet to knock the stuffing out of them, Tony had thought he'd go a round or two.

He'd been completely in the moment. The physical activity had brought him a sense of clarity, his mind calming instead of spinning in a million different directions.

It was also awesome to beat the hell out of something; no wonder the Cap was so fond of it.

Oblivious to everything around him, he was startled when JARVIS interrupted; Captain Rogers was calling. The conversation with the big man had been confusing and more than a little worrisome. The genius was about to call him back when he paused; he'd do one better. Forgoing his usual smart attire, he tugged on a zip hoodie over his bare chest.

"Don't wait up, darlin'," he called to the AI before jumping in the newest addition to his collection, a 40s roadster in sky blue.

It took Tony all of fifteen minutes to get to Cap's crummy little apartment – SHIELD had not been generous. Of course he'd known that before his little visit. Tony had made it his business to keep an eye on the blond, which included knowing his whereabouts at all times. He didn't think of it as stalking, though; it was more obsessively shadowing.

Moments after parking, he was out of the car, up the stairs, and knocking on the door of apartment 303. There was a pause before he heard shuffling feet and the door opened a fraction.

"Stark?" was Steve's the incredulous greeting.

The dark haired man in the hall gave an ironic salute, "None other."

The door opened further, the blond stepped back to allow the other man inside.

The small cramped place did nothing for the billionaire; it was barren and barely habitable. It was a place to sleep, not to live. It did, however, have a nice view of the city through the large window.

Finished with his casual perusal, Tony sat uninvited in one of the hard chairs near the window. "I got an interesting call tonight," he said offhandedly as he watched the other closely.

The Cap sat slowly on the other chair. "Ummm, yeah…" he said, looking away as a faint blush covering pale cheeks. Steve had no idea what to do or say. Unsure why Tony was here at all, but oddly grateful for the intrusion.

They sat in silence for a while, which took the blond aback; usually Tony talked a mile a minute. For the moment, though, he seemed perfectly content to sit and say nothing.

Eventually Steve took the initiative, deciding to get something off his chest. "I'm sorry," he blurted, avoiding that intense dark stare.

The other raised an eyebrow curiously. "For what?"

Captain America shifted nervously. "For what I said… when we met…" he finished lamely. Tony didn't think his eyebrows could go any higher. "It was cruel and mean… and not me. I was upset and taking it out on you unfairly."

"Well, thank you, but totally unnecessary, Cap. I've had worse said about me and I wasn't exactly kind back."

The other man gave him a weak smile.

"Why don't we start again?" Tony offered. "My name is Anthony Stark, but for you, Tony." When he held out his hand, the man from the past gripped it firmly.

"Steven Rogers, call me Steve." They grinned at one another, the blond man feeling the callused palm cool against his own.

As they sat back, Tony's haphazardly zipped sweater slipped, revealing the blue glow of his arc reactor.

Curious, Steve pointed, "You wear it all the time?"

Looking down, surprised, Tony smiled a little sadly, "Sort of have to. It keeps me alive."

Blue eyes looked at him curiously. "Well, it's a bit of a story," Tony grinned. "If you want to hear it…." At the offer, Steve nodded eagerly settling back in his chair. Tony buried his hands in the hoodie's pockets and began to talk, hesitantly at first, but gaining strength and cadence as he went.

The billionaire had meant only to give him the abbreviated version, the watered-down story he'd told Pepper and Rhodes. The one that didn't make people feel bad for him.

As he spoke though, he found himself spilling the whole story – the truth of his confinement, his fears confronted, and a brief friendship so powerful that he held the memory close to his abused heart.

Steve watched and listened intently, taking everything thing in. It was somewhat surprising when he realized the man before him wasn't teasing and wasn't joking; they were talking as friends would.

"So, Steve, what about you?" Tony asked after he'd reached the end of his story. "Tell me how you ended up frozen in the Arctic."

The blond looked at him curiously, "You, who makes it his business to know everything, don't know?"

Amused, Tony smiled, "I know most of the preliminaries, but the real story has been lost. I want to hear it from the horse's mouth, so to speak."

Steve smiled widely, "I got that one."

When they finally finished talking, the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon; they had talked the night away. Stretching, Tony gave a small yawn. "Well, I'm tired out now." He gave the blond man a dozy smile, not missing the sudden crestfallen look that crossed his honest face.

Steve didn't want Tony to go. He'd enjoyed talking to him, as hard as that was to believe. He'd felt kinship with the man; they had connected tonight and if Tony left, he'd be alone in this bizarre world again.

Standing, the shorter man flexed sinewy muscles and ran a hand through his tousled brown curls. "So, I'll see you at the tower in an hour or so?" he said casually.

Steve looked at him, a small glimmer of hope in his eyes. "At the tower?"

Nodding, Tony smiled, "Your room is waiting for you."

-#-#-#-

Clutching his duffle under one arm, Steve Rogers looked up at the massive structure, awed and a little nervous. Taking a bracing breath, he reached forward and pressed what had to be a doorbell.

A very polite voice answered, "Captain Rogers, please come in. Mr. Stark is waiting for you on the 50th floor."

"Thank you," Steve yelled back at the little box, then stepped into the bustling lobby. The structure had taken a serious beating during the battle; now it was crawling with workers busily making repairs. They paid him no mind, though, as they went about their business and Steve headed back to the elevator.

Elsewhere in the tower, Tony was a nervous wreck.

"He's on his way, sir," JARVIS announced.

His dark head nodded absently as contemplated whether to change – again. Showered now and dressed in jeans and a plain black t-shirt, Tony hoped he looked good without trying. Faced with the Captain's imminent arrival, however, he was having second thoughts.

Practically vibrating with nervous energy, Tony paced around what he had decided was the common area. While repairing the top floors of the tower, Tony had made some modifications; now the tower's living space would accommodate all the Avengers when they finished whatever they were doing and finally moved in. He'd made an effort to make sure all the quarters would suit everyone's needs, and he'd taken special care in setting up Cap- he stopped himself – _Steve's_ room.

Then the doors dinged and Tony whirled as a very welcome figure stepped out. "Hey, welcome to your new home," he smiled as warmth flooded his chest, the blue glow of his arc reactor pulsing warmly.

Steve found himself returning the smile. He had tried to dress a little less like an old man, opting for jeans and t-shirt. It was white, Tony noted right away, and oh so tight. Silver dog tags clinked softly as the man moved.

"Wow," Steve breathed, looking around.

Smiling proudly, Tony gestured, "I'll show you your room, then take you on the grand tour."


	3. I am very wise…people just don't listen

Author's Note: Ah! The fluff the fluff! Enjoy the next part, thanks raving beauty for getting this all done.

You're No Hero

Chapter 2 – I am very wise… people just don't listen to me

Two sets of stairs led away from the common area; Tony took Steve up the one on the left, "I hope you don't mind, I've put you on this side with me."

Leading Steve down the hallway, Tony stopped at the first door they came to – a very regular door with a very normal doorknob. Steve smirked a bit at the sight; he had expected this place to be over the top with those sliding doors he'd been subjected to on the carrier.

Tony opened the door with a wink and a grand gesture.

Hesitantly the man from the past stepped inside, smiling widely as he took a quick glance around. It was warm and cozy, all browns and beiges; he had almost been afraid it'd be full of red, white, and blue.

The large bed was fitted with sheets that a rich chocolate brown with a fluffy cream duvet. By the window was a large dark leather chair, a table beside it. There was even an old fashioned fireplace, a bookshelf, and a large chest of drawers standing near the open closet door. It was honestly the nicest room he'd ever seen.

"Check this out," Tony said as he stepped forward and tugged a blue bound book from the shelf; instantly the whole bookcase slid away. Steve felt his jaw drop. His suit and several spares were hung neatly in the secret compartment; ready at a moment's notice.

"Pretty awesome, right?" Tony asked, looking pleased with himself. "The button on the fireplace closes it again," he reached over and hit the switch as he spoke, the bookshelf sliding back. "Your bathroom's over there, all yours."

Steve was at a loss for words. Clearly someone had put a lot of work into designing the place, and he had a feeling it was all Tony's handiwork.

The genius grew more and more nervous as Steve failed to respond. "So, what do you think?" he finally asked, trying for nonchalance.

"It's the cat's pajamas," Steve said, beaming.

Dark eyes blinked at him for a moment before a huff of laughter spilled from the smaller man. Tony grinned. "I like that one…" he said, still chuckling as he headed out of the room.

Steve dropped his duffle on the floor, eager to follow.

"I'm down there," Tony pointed to a door at the end of the hall. Steve nodded, closing his own door and trying to commit everything to memory as they continued the tour. The tower had everything – kitchen, dining room, pool, and even a gym full of punching bags.

Finally they stopped outside a glass door with a keypad beside it. "This is my lab and workshop," Tony explained. "I keep it locked, but in case you need to get in for some reason, the code is easy, 1945."

Steve nodded, frowning. "Why that number?" he asked curiously.

"Because it's easier for you to remember," Tony answered as he turned to hide his blush and walked back toward the main area. "So, that's the basics, but there's still a lot to explore. I'm still not altogether sure what rooms there are here. If you get lost or anything, JARVIS will help out. Right?" Tony called out.

The AI responded immediately, "Of course, sir."

He turned back to Steve, who looked completely overwhelmed. Tony frowned; he couldn't fathom being thrown into a time so different from his own. Steve had missed so much in the world, had lost everything familiar. "Hey," Tony said as he reached out, touching a strong arm gently. "Steve, what's wrong?"

The tall man didn't shake Tony off; he grabbed the comforting hand and smiled weakly. "I feel like I'm adrift sometimes… like there's no way I'll be able to make it in this time," his whisper was soft, eyes pleading, as if some terrible secret was being revealed.

Tony's heart gave a painful lurch. "You can, Steve, and you will. It'll take time, but you'll get the hang of it. Sure we changed, but deep down I think people are the same. We just have a hell of a lot shorter attention spans."

The other chuckled, "You sound very wise."

The genius laughed at that, patting the hand clutching his arm. "I am very wise… people just don't listen to me."

The rest of the day passed quickly as Tony showed Steve all the miracles of modern living.

First, he patiently explained how to work the kitchen appliances. Next up were the TV and the remotes; Steve couldn't get over having the movies at home. For dinner they ordered Chinese, another amazing trick in this time. After battling valiantly with his chopsticks, Steve finally gave in and used the fork Tony had casually placed by his plate. Then they watched TV late into the night, the genius unperturbed by Steve's continual questions.

As he dozed off, the blond's last conscious thought was that he was surprisingly comfortable with the man; Tony was not at all like he first appeared.

-#-#-#-

Steve woke, bleary-eyed. He blinked as he realized his pillow was moving; it was breathing, to be more exact, the gentle breaths accompanied by a soft underlying hum. It took a few more seconds to figure out that he was still sitting on the couch, the black box on the wall was still running, and he was lying against the chest of Tony Stark.

He vaguely recalled leaning back and closing his tired eyes, but at some point he had apparently slid into the other man. Gently pulling away, he ignored his hammering heart.

Tony groaned faintly as his eyes blinked open at Steve's movement. "We fall asleep?" he asked.

Steve nodded, blushing to the roots of his hair as Tony stood and stretched, causing his shirt to ride up. Steve found his blue eyes drawn to the strip of tanned skin that appeared above the waistband of Tony's pants. He glanced away quickly; what was wrong with him?

"Guess it's bedtime. You going, too?" the genius asked as Steve nodded and followed behind. They wished each other a good night at Steve's door before Tony headed down the hallway to his own room.

The blond watched him disappear before entering his own room. Exhausted, Steve stripped out his clothes and tugged on some striped pajamas, no doubt 'old man' ones. Settling into his new bed, he groaned in bliss. It was decadent, plush, and large. He closed his blue eyes, trying to still his churning mind, to sleep… But his thoughts kept drifting back to one man, Tony Stark.

Down the hall in his own room, clad in nothing more than tight black boxer briefs, the man on the mind of Captain America was thinking of the blond soldier, too. Things were looking up. He drifted off into a thankfully dreamless sleep, a smile on his lips.

-#-#-#-

The weeks that followed fell into a pattern at Stark Tower as the two occupants seemed to find a harmonious rhythm.

On the morning of his second day Steve, an early riser by nature, had been surprised to see Tony already up and dressed, if a little oddly. He wore some baggy black shorts, a long-sleeved black shirt, and over that a blue t-shirt with a very familiar symbol on it – Captain America's shield. On his head was a black wool cap pulled down over shaggy locks.

"Morning," he said when Steve came downstairs.

Steve blinked. "What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

Tony shrugged, "Going for a run."

The blond perked up, "Really? PT?"

Nodding, Tony watched him, amused at the soldier's excited response, "Just a second and I'll go with you!"

The genius waited by the elevator, stretching idly and almost giddy with anticipation. He was going for a jog with Captain America. "Living out a fantasy," he said softly.

"Ready," Steve said as he came back wearing military PT gear circa WWII.

Tony cleared his throat. "Did you wear that in boot camp?" he asked, swallowing thickly.

Steve looked down, nodding, "Yes."

Tony bit back a groan as a flurry of dirty, kinky thoughts rushed through his mind. Suddenly hot and uncomfortable, he cleared his throat and tried to reign in his wayward imagination. "Let's rock and roll," he said as he turned to head out the door.

Steve was completely oblivious to Tony's inner turmoil as he trotted along beside him.

Even though New York was always pulsing with life, five o'clock in the morning was still blissfully serene. The late nighters were just turning in, while the early risers were just coming to life. They passed a few other joggers getting runs in before the streets filled up. Steve kept pace easily with the shorter man; Tony would be lying if he said he hadn't been expecting that. It was nice to know, though, that he was holding his own against the super solider. As they looped around Central Park, they paused to shake out cramping limbs.

"Wouldn't have thought you one for exercise, Tony," Steve said, softening the glib comment with a smile.

Tony winced as he stretched a tight hamstring. "I'm just full of surprises," he teased back. The comment was offhand, but Tony took great pride in his physical wellbeing. He tried to eat right and work out when he wasn't in the public eye pretending to be a party boy.

"Ready to go again?" he asked as his dark eyes glittered in challenge. Nodding, Steve grinned and then they were off, running back to the Tower.

-#-#-#-

The morning run became their little ritual, followed by breakfast – usually coffee and cereal for Tony and a full breakfast for Steve. With his ridiculous metabolism, the man was perpetually hungry, always eating enough for at least four grown men. Tony always shook his head over his coffee as he watched the other man eat; it was a good thing he was rich.

After breakfast Tony would head down to his lab to work, improve, modify, and generally try not to think too much about the gorgeous blond living with him. Of course this didn't stop him from secretly spoiling the man from the past.

Tony had just so happened to have a series of box sets chronicling the historical highlights from the last sixty-seven years. Steve would go and sit before the TV for hours, fascinated as he watched what the world had done while he'd been sleeping. And eventually Tony would emerge from his lab, unable to stay away. Like some junkie needing a fix, he would go sit next to Steve on the couch and listen patiently as the man tripped all over himself to tell Tony everything he'd watched.

-#-#-#-

A month passed peacefully for the pair, the world continued spinning, and the Avengers weren't called upon; all was peaceful for the moment.

"Sir, Ms. Potts on the phone," JARVIS called.

Sighing, Tony paused his intricate dance through holograms as he glanced over at the screen and answered the call, "Ms. Potts, you found me in my secret lair."

"Well, it wasn't well-hidden," Pepper replied. "It's in the middle of the city."

"Curses. Foiled again by my vanity."

She rolled her eyes smiled, "I need you here for a board meeting, Tony."

He gave her a sour look, "I turned the company over to you for a reason. I am but the handsome poster child of this multibillion dollar company." Then his attention span ran short as he started moving around the room again, spinning designs.

"You are the gorgeous, brilliant, business-minded CEO who runs the boring stuff," he declared as he gave her a roguish grin.

"Buttering me up will get you nowhere. You are not getting out of this," Pepper ordered. "The board needs you to be here. They need to see Iron Man looking healthy, strong, and ruggedly handsome."

"Who is buttering who here?" Instead of answering, she batted her eyes at him. Sighing, Tony stopped moving and looked back at the screen, "Alright."

"I love you, Tony! Be here tomorrow by nine? I'll only need you two days max." Then abruptly she was gone before he could protest anymore.

Tony sighed. "JARVIS, what's the big guy up to?"

"He's currently mumbling to himself about the eighties, sir," the AI replied.

Tony laughed, easily picturing the irritated man glaring at the screen. He headed out of the lab and up to the living room. "How goes the battle, Spangles?" he asked playfully, settling beside him on the couch.

Steve turned to look at him through narrowed eyes, "I'm glad I missed the 80's."

Laughing outright, the billionaire settled back and relaxed. "All I wanted was gold hammer pants," he mused with a far off look. At Steve's look of confusion, Tony tapped a few buttons on his phone; the screen changed and MC Hammer was doing his trademark shuffling. "Those pants, those were the pants I wanted."

Steve's mouth dropped open and he began to laugh. He laughed so hard tears ran from his blue eyes. Finally, gasping for breath, he tapered off as Tony grinned like a loon beside him. "I bet if Iron Man wore those, the next day everyone would be wearing them." That got Steve going again, and Tony joined in.

When their mirth had finally faded, Tony stretched unconsciously, settling an arm behind Steve on the couch; the broad man leaned back into him, thinking nothing of it. "So, comrade, I have to leave tomorrow for a couple days."

Steve looked at him quickly, "Why?"

"Put a little face time in with the board," he answered. "You know how it is. Stir up some trouble, make Pep look good. Then I come back and once again become the reclusive, eccentric genius creating the latest and greatest world-changing invention."

Steve gave him a half-grin and a headshake, "Modest to a fault."

Tony smiled cheekily at him, "I'm starving and I know you are, too, hollow legs. What do you want for dinner?" He stood and started moving to the kitchen.

"Tony?" The hesitant voice stopped him.

"Yeah?" Tony turned back to the blond.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You act like two completely different people… like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

Brown eyes blinked, "I like that analogy. Or Dr. Banner and Mr. Hulk?"

Sighing the tall, perfectly made man stood and walked toward him. "Who are you really, Tony Stark?" he asked softly, standing before him. Blue eyes scrutinized the genius closely.

Some unfathomable emotion crossed those dark eyes. Tony smiled warily, "When I figure it out, you'll be the first to know."


	4. Men aren't allowed to like other men

Author's Note: Next chapter this is a fluffy mess, just sap. Absolute sap, and I make no apologies for it. Wildly out of character, don't even care. Thanks to all my readers out there, please do enjoy. As well as my stupendous beta ravingbeauty!

You're Not Alone

Chapter 3 - Men aren't allowed to like other men

"Ok, you all set?" Tony asked as he walked into the kitchen, ignoring the irritated look he got from Steve.

"I'm not a child."

"No, but you keep putting tinfoil in the microwave, and we're on the third one."

Shrugging, Captain America couldn't help the little grin that crossed his face.

"I'm a phone call away if you need me," Tony said, adjusting his bracelets. "You can also do the typing message thing if you're feeling adventurous."

The man with the plan looked at the counter mulishly; he still hadn't mastered that.

"Ok. I'm out of here. See you in a few," Tony said as he walked to the elevator. Looking dapper in his charcoal suit and white tie, he gave his roommate a salute before disappearing.

Steve sighed as the doors closed. "You're a fool. He's only going to be gone a few days," he mumbled to himself. He glanced into the empty living room; maybe he could go a few rounds with the punching bag before he continued watching his movies.

-#-#-#-

Tony was already worried about leaving the man alone. He was debating how to get out of this little performance even as he touched down in front of Pepper and the new suit folded in on itself.

"On time and everything. I'm beginning to think the new roommate is keeping you in line."

Slipping designer sunglasses on, he tugged a flask out his pocket and took a large swig, enjoying the burn of a very good Scotch.

"You could just be you," Pepper said, shaking her head.

"Where's the fun in that?" Tony asked as he raised his drink and gave the redhead a sly wink.

-#-#-#-

Steve sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. Blinking, he glanced out the large windows as the sun dipped below the horizon; it was evening now. Tony had been gone little over 12 hours and he already missed the man.

"This is ridiculous, he's a friend," he told himself. "You're acting like some teenager with a crush." That thought gave him pause; eyes widening as the flippant statement took root. Sure his face was a picture of shock and stunned realization.

"Oh no…" he said, shaking his head, trying to clear the traitorous thoughts. "No, no…" he mumbled as he began to pace.

He had put this sort of thing behind him, or so he had thought. Men did not want other men. It wasn't right; it was unnatural and disgraceful.

The soldier wrapped large arms around his chest, gasping as if in pain. Peggy had been safe. But now he was right back where he had started – thinking dangerous things, impossible things. His rebellious mind conjured up pictures of Tony Stark smirking, those lips twisting happily at him. Where Steve was all bulk and muscle, Tony was elegance and sinew.

He dropped to the couch, moaning in anguish, his heart thudding in anxiety. He couldn't tell anyone his shameful secret; it would utterly embarrass the Avengers… Tony…

"Men aren't allowed to like other men," Steve whispered, even as his heart broke.

When he finally closed his eyes and slept, he dreamed of temptation, dark eyes and a long forgotten dance in a darkened room.

-#-#-#-

Tony winced as the door thudded open; he could feel his hangover already setting in behind his eyes.

The whole thing had gone swimmingly. The board had been gratified to see that they had indeed been blessed with Pepper. Tony's new designs were showcased, raising eyebrows and causing tongues to wag. And Mr. Anthony Stark, spoiled, self-centered, son of Howard Stark, had played the part of drunken degenerate to the hilt. Another thump caused him to wince again as pain lanced through his head. Maybe too well.

Having slipped out of the after party early on the pretense of being outrageously drunk and passing out, Tony had headed to an old storage room of dad's. The place looked like a war zone, piled high with boxes and boxes of old plans, sketches, and long forgotten dreams.

Tony however was looking for something in particular, something that he hoped against hope his dad had kept.

He had only begun his search when his phone dinged, curious he pulled it out. "Probably Banner again. I'm beginning to regret giving him that international phone," he muttered aloud.

When he pulled the phone out, he was surprised to see the text was from Steve. His eyes widened, the message a short one.

_Tony?_

Unable to stop his ridiculous grin, Tony texted back.

_Here Steve, what's up? Having a good night?_

There was a very long pause. Tony chuckled; shrugging out of his suit coat, he turned the ringer up as he went back to digging. He had time to sift through two boxes full of old paper files of very early designs. Then there was another ding and he all but ran for the phone.

_I am well how are you? Wchting 1990_

"Adorable," Tony muttered, fingers flying. He could just picture the big man hunched over, brow furrowed in concentration, as he very deliberately typed out his message.

_Learning lots about the 90's? You're doing great with the texting. _

He went back to sifting while he waited. Tony had shifted to the back toward the room when his foot connected with the corner of a metal footlocker.

"Son of a bitch!" he cried, hopping back, glaring down at the seemingly innocuous inanimate object. He craned his neck, grinning, and read the lettering aloud, "Property of Capt. Steven Rogers."

Glad his old man had zealously kept everything from the project, he hefted the locker back over piles of boxes and into the light. As he flipped it open, a smile almost split his face in two. It was full of old files and papers; when he reached the bottom, gentle hands lifted out a very old worn cotton suit.

"From his USO shows," he muttered, groaning when a shot of lust burnt though him. At the very bottom, underneath the costume, he found what he'd been looking for.

His phone went again, but this time a song blared from the device rather than the simple chime of a text. Not classic rock as was his preference, but the smooth voice of Vera Lynn, "We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when…" He snapped it open, knowing immediately who was on the other end, "Hey, Steve, give up on the typing?"

There was a grunt from the other end of the line. "It's very frustrating," he said, voice a little louder than necessary.

"You were doing well," Tony said idly as his clever fingers pulled out the leather bound book; the cover bore the initials S.R., while the whole thing was held together with a piece of old fraying twine. "Did you finish off the 90s?"

Steve snorted, "Yes, it was boring. Not much going on."

"Ah, well, you know how it is," Tony replied, fingers smoothing across the letters.

"Am I disturbing you, Tony?" Steve asked hesitantly then, suddenly aware he had called the man without really thinking it through.

"Well maybe a bit," the genius teased, "But for you I always have time." The words were out before he realized it. Closing his eyes, he winced; what a stupid thing to say.

Miles away Steve grinned widely, suddenly feeling much better.

The two men spoke a while longer about nothing in particular, each secretly thinking how nice it was to hear the other's voice. When their conversation finally lulled, Steve decided it was time to man up and let Tony get back to his work. "Well, I guess I'll head to bed," he said softly.

Tony heard something unspoken in the words. "I'll be home tomorrow night. See you soon, yeah?" he said softly.

The other paused. "Goodnight, Tony," he said from the other end of the device.

"Goodnight, Steve." The line went dead. Tony lowered the phone pensively; Steve had sounded so sad. The soldier put up a front; he always felt he had to be strong, be the protector for everyone. He had carried the weight of the world on his shoulders during WWII and he still carried it today. Despite the fact the world had changed so much, Captain Rogers was still every inch a hero. He kept his own thoughts and feelings locked away, suffering in silence… he wore a mask.

"Just like me," Tony muttered.

Tony wanted to run back to the Tower, pull the man into his embrace, and tell him that he wasn't alone… _they_ weren't alone. He wanted nothing more than to hold the man close and protect the hero. The irony of the thought made him smile a little.

Sighing heavily, he frowned; he couldn't bail on Pepper, though. He would see this through, but at the very least he could maybe do something to cheer Steve up. He already had part of it, he thought as he gathered up the footlocker. As for the second part…

"JARVIS, you there?" he spoke into the phone.

"Sir?"

"Yeah, run the test footage from the Mark II suits for Steve, would you please?" Tony winced a little at the thought, but what was a little embarrassment if it made Steve laugh?

-#-#-#-

Sitting on the couch in the too quiet tower, the blond in question was glaring at the phone as if it had done something offensive.

Steve hadn't wanted to call Tony; he felt weak for doing it, but he'd needed it. He had been trying to use the letters, but it had been taking too long. He had just missed hearing the smooth voice, missed his teasing and flashing smiles.

Before he'd realized it, his long fingers were dialing and he was talking. His plan to keep things between them friendly and light had been shot to hell in a matter of minutes.

Disgusted with himself, Steve wasn't paying attention when the TV changed. He looked up in surprise when he heard Tony's voice, "This is test one on Iron Man, Mark II… Dummy on fire control."

Blue eyes widened; Tony wasn't wearing the familiar full armor. Instead, he stood shirtless, the blue glow in his chest pulsing with power, with wires, metal, and dangerous looking equipment strapped to him.

Steve watched as Tony started up the contraption only to be flung into the wall, fall onto a tool chest, and be doused with a fire extinguisher. He couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up through his chest.

The soldier continued watching, alternating between wincing at the pounding the man took and amazement at his persistence. He'd never really thought about it before, but he supposed that becoming a hero took some time. That amazing mechanical suit needed to begin somewhere.

By the time the video had run out, Steve was tired, his stomach hurt from laughing, and his chest was warm. He just knew, somehow, Tony had something to do with it.


	5. Should have let sleeping dogs lie

Author's Note: More fluff but warning PTSD ahead not fun! Thanks muchly to my beta ravingbeauty.

You're No Hero

Chapter 4 – Maybe I should have let sleeping dogs lie

Tony landed at the top of the tower, unhampered by the extra weight of the footlocker.

It was going on six o'clock and he was almost giddy with anticipation. Hurriedly stripping of his suit, he stashed the locker away in his workroom grabbing up the leather bound sketchbook.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he slowed his pace, unable to help the grin that spread across his face. He crept into the living room where the large blond was sprawled on the couch, dead to the world.

Tony's breath left him; the soldier looked so much younger in sleep, so vulnerable. Torn between wanting to wake him with a surprise and leaving him to rest, Tony decided the surprise took precedence. It was completely selfish on his part, but he wanted to see those baby blues light up for him.

"Steve?" he whispered, shaking a strong shoulder gently, biting his lip to keep from laughing when Steve frowned and mumbled something indecipherable. Tony decided to try a slightly different tack, "Ten-hut, solider."

Steve's blue eyes snapped open; on reflex he immediately scrambled to stand at attention.

The dark haired man instantly felt bad, "Steve, it's ok. It's just me, sorry."

Once Steve registered he was not, in fact, back in the army, he sat heavily and gave Tony a rueful glare. "When'd you get back?" he asked groggily.

"Just now," Tony said. "I got something for you." Unable to hold back, he sat beside the blond on the couch delicately placeing the leather-bound book into his lap, eagerly watching.

It took Steve several long moments to process; he was sure he was somehow hallucinating. Trembling hands reached out and hesitantly touched the worn leather, fraying twine, and faded initials… his initials.

"Tony…" he whispered. "How did… where did… I mean…" he trailed off.

Tony just winked an eye at him, "I have my sources."

Steve's steady hands gently untied the twine. Then, not realizing that he was holding his breath, he slowly opened the cover. It was exactly as he had left it, his half-finished picture of Peggy innocently on top. The folio had protected the pencil sketches from time; they looked just as clear and sharp as they had 67 years ago.

Unable to help himself, Tony glanced at the sketch. "Is that her?" he asked quietly.

Steve nodded. He felt a twinge at seeing her picture, a small sadness. Now, though, that once empty ache in his chest had been filled, and the man sitting here beside him, looking at him steadily, seriously, was the one filling it.

"You want to see more?" he asked. Nodding eagerly, Tony scooted closer on the couch as Steve began to leaf through the drawings.

Tony was fascinated; it was a glimpse into another world, another time, and into the man himself. He laughed at the drawings of a monkey dancing in the Captain America costume, caught his breath at the war-torn cityscapes, smiled at the faces of the Captain's commandos, and wanted to cry at the bodies lying twisted and ruined on the battlefield.

By the time they had reached the end, Steve was emotionally drained. A lot of old wounds had been reopened. His eyes burned and his chest ached, torn between wanting to be alone and wanting to curl into Tony and weep.

It was a quiet, pensive dinner they shared, each lost in thought. After they ate Steve excused himself quietly, thanking Tony softly for returning his book. With a small sad smile, the handsome blond disappeared to his room.

Tony watched him go, his conscience eating away at him suddenly feeling incredibly guilty. "Maybe I should have let sleeping dogs lie," he mumbled as he glanced at the clock; it was only nine.

Shaking his head, he wandered to his lab. The high-tech room lit up when he entered; Dummy and Butterfingers beeped into life. "Hello, boys," he said, moving to the workbench where the footlocker stood. His heart ached, his light low and dim under his shirt. He had thought he'd be doing a good thing.

Sighing, he opened the metal box and tugged out the old paper files. "JARVIS," he called as he began to leaf through them. "I want to make sure we have copies of all these saved to the Cap A file, please."

Pausing in his perusal, he found a faded black and white photo. It was a picture of Steven Rogers, pre-serum; it must have been taken during his training. The small blond was looking past the camera at something. Very skinny, very pale, but smiling in a way that made Tony want to hold him tight.

"Oh my god, he was even adorable before," he murmured, smiling delightedly. He had never actually seen a picture of him before Captain America. Grinning at the photo, he walked over to his desk and tucking it in the corner of the frame sitting there.

The frame already had a picture of Captain America in it, Tony's favorite since he was young; the Cap in profile, shield slung across his back – the same shield Tony now had. His father had given him the photo, no doubt the original black and white print.

Shaking his head at his own sap, he returned to the files, glancing every so often at the picture. "You have it bad, Stark," he said to himself. He was turning into a damned romantic.

-#-#-#-

Several floors above him, lying wide awake in bed, the object of Tony's affection was trying valiantly not to cry… and failing miserably.

Steve's breath hitched in his chest as memories swirled in his mind. Vivid images danced through his mind, breathtaking in their clarity, pulling open tender wounds. Weeping silently, he curled in on himself as tightly as possible.

"Sir," JARVIS said in his equable tones.

Tony looked up from his manipulations, "What's wrong?"

"It's Captain Rogers, sir. He's causing a bit of a commotion in his bedroom." Tony was already out the door and up the steps before the computer had finished speaking. The room was pitch black with the lights out, but Tony, with his perpetual glow, always had light.

As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he spotted the large silhouette standing unmoving in the center of the room. Dark eyes noted the overturned chair, the lamp broken on the floor.

"Steve?" he asked carefully as the man whirled at the sound of his voice. "Hey, Steve," he called again. As Tony moved closer, the blue light illuminated his face; Steve's eyes were half closed, swollen and red, his cheeks wet. He'd been crying, Tony realized as the light stuttered with his heart.

"We need to get out," Steve rumbled in an urgent voice, glancing back over his shoulder. "It's going to blow…" When he turned to back to Tony, face betraying nothing, the genius realized Steve wasn't awake.

Just as the revelation hit, he was literally bowled over as the muscular man tackled him. Winded and dazed, Tony took a choking breath and looked at the man on top of him. Normally he'd be thrilled to be in a position like this, but at the moment things were not good.

"Steve, you're having a nightmare…" he tried, breathless. A sudden solid whack to his face had him grunting in pain; Steve had clocked him in the eye. "Oww…" he grumbled as the big man was up off him and running.

"Everybody out!" Steve screamed, holding his arm as if his shield rested on it.

"Shit," Tony hurried after him, unsure what to do. He knew the effects of PTSD well; hell, he'd lived through them himself. It didn't surprise him that Steve was having an episode tonight after dredging up all those memories. The tricky bit was going to make sure he didn't hurt himself.

Tony followed the solider closely as he left the living room and headed down the hall.

Alarmed when Steve punched through a glass wall, hand bleeding, Tony shouted, "Steve!" Instinctively he tackled the soldier, his only thought to stop him hurting himself further. As Tony lacked his suit, he earned himself a solid beating from Captain America in the tussle. It was a damn good thing he'd learned to take a beating.

Curling a fist, he was finally able to land a blow on that strong chin. Tony may not be a super solider, but he packed a solid punch.

The fair head snapped back and Steve gasped, waking confused and shocked. "Where…" he was sitting on the floor in a hallway; his face hurt and his hand throbbed numbly. It was pitch black, save for the steady blue glow, the light coming from the man sitting before him.

"You ok, Steve?" Tony asked as worried dark eyes peered at him.

Tony was looking worse for wear; one eye was swollen, while blood trickled from his lip

"Tony?" he asked, confused and afraid. He'd been having a terrible nightmare, reliving battles won and lost long ago. Breathing became a chore as his mind rebelled; each pant came short and sharp, hitching in his wide chest.

"Hey now. Breathe, Steve… just breathe." Gentle callused hands reached out to cup his face, pulling him towards the warm blue light. Tony rested their foreheads together as Steve kept gasping like he'd run a marathon.

"It's ok," Steve mumbled as he closed his blue eyes in pain, wetness running down his cheeks. He didn't want to cry in front of the other man… Captain America didn't cry.

They stayed that way, unmoving for long moments. Feeling Steve's large frame shaking in pain, Tony's heart ached for the man; he closed his own eyes and began to rock them gently.

Sniffling, Steve finally subsided, tired, drained, and embarrassed. "Tony…" he began hoarsely, unsure where to start.

Pulling back Tony stood, hauling the blond up with him. "It can wait until the morning. Come on," he said softly, tugging the taller man back toward his room. The house looked like a war zone now, but Steve was too tired to notice.

Gentle hands led Steve back to his room, and his rumpled bed. Slowly Steve got in, feeling removed from himself as Tony pulled the covers off the floor and carefully tucked him in.

Tony smiled down at him. "Get some rest," he said softly as he turned to leave.

"Stay…" a deep voice mumbled and a big hand gripped his wrist gently.

Brown eyes closed and Tony shuddered; how many times had he dreamed about hearing those words, fantasized about that plea falling from his lips? His mind was telling him to do the noble thing and leave; Steve was too vulnerable, raw and hurting. His heart, though, was screaming at him to stay.

The internal battle was short. Tony had never really done noble…

Tony settled next to Steve on the large, comfortable mattress and moaned as his pummeled body relaxed. Closing his eyes, he tensed as Steve moved; a hand moved across his chest, settling firmly over his reactor, darkening the room immediately. He shivered a little at the sensation. The warm touch was nice; generally he was always a little cooler than normal temperature, a side effect of his slowed circulation.

Tony smiled a little and began to drift off. Despite the beating, the night hadn't turned out all that bad.

-#-#-#-

Steve woke feeling disoriented and groggy. Something nagged at the back of his mind as he blinked, mind clearing sluggishly. He paused when he noticed a lump in the bed beside him, eyes widened as he realized who the lump was.

He blushed furiously as memories from last night came flooding back. He had been in the hallway… and Tony had brought him back to his room, but not before… he groaned in embarrassment and guilt. He wanted to bury himself back under the covers and hope the world went away.

A mumble from the other side of the bed had him glancing over at the dark haired man cautiously. He was scared of what Tony might say. God only knew the man deserved to give him hell after that performance last night.

Yawning and stretching the shorter of the two turned on his back, wincing when the motion pulled bruised muscles. Steve felt shame burn his cheeks. Tony's eye was badly swollen, a black and blue bruise already spreading. There was also a dark mark along his jawline, accompanied by a split lip.

It took the dark haired man a moment to recall why his face hurt and why he was in an unfamiliar bed. He smiled at Steve, the grin dying on his lips when he registered the stricken look from the other.

"I did that, didn't I…" Steve tried to get out, laying gentle fingers on the split lip. Frantic to apologize, he was completely lost.

"I've had much worse, don't feel bad." Tony assured him, "You didn't know what you were doing, having a bad nightmare is all." He took a big hand between his; "I think I deserve some of the blame, though, dragging all those memories up."

Steve, blushing at the contact, hung his head in shame.

Rough fingers lifted his chin. "We all have our demons," Tony said softly and gave him a reassuring smile, one that was hesitantly returned.

With a roguish look Tony gingerly climbed out of the bed. "Feel like breakfast?' he asked cheerily and the blond nodded slowly. "Ok, I'm going to shower. I'll see you in the kitchen in a few…"

He was almost out the door when Steve stopped him, "Tony… thank you, and I'm so sorry."

Tony waved away the apology, "Unnecessary." With a wink he was gone.

Alone the super solider was still feeling guilty despite Tony's reassurances. He'd beaten the man he'd come to think of as his best friend… more than a best friend, if he was being honest with himself. That thought brought another surge of guilt. Steve showered quickly, mind uneasily churning; it was so tempting to give in. He liked Tony, he really liked Tony… liked him more than was right.

Ignoring the sudden pang in his chest, Steve set his jaw and made a decision.

He couldn't let Tony know.

Tony would be disgusted.

How many times had Steve been told that a man with a man was unnatural? How many times had he seen what happened to people who transgressed? He needed to stop these thoughts and feelings, stomp them down and hide, be what they expected of him… what the world expected of him.

As he shut the shower off and stepped out, he glanced at his refection in the foggy mirror. He was all planes and hard edges, scientifically engineered perfection.

He did have a flaw, though… one that could get someone hurt. He'd seen it before, violent beatings in alleys when a man had asked the wrong person, when he'd been found out.

He couldn't, wouldn't risk it; he couldn't live with himself if Tony was hurt because of him – even though, like some brute, he'd been the one doing the beating last night.

Deciding to make Tony a lavish breakfast as an apology, he hurried to dress.

-#-#-#-

Tony, unaware he was the object of such intense thought, was checking out the damage in his own mirror. He worked his jaw experimentally; it wasn't great, but he'd had worse. Not lately, mind you – usually the suit took the brunt of the damage.

Shrugging he ran a hand through damp curls, dressing in jeans and a loose navy t-shit. When he headed down to the kitchen, he was unsurprised to see Steve already cooking. He could tell by the tension in his back, though, he was feeling badly.

Tony went to the counter and poured himself some coffee; Steve liked it dark… it was awesome.

"What's on the menu?" he asked, leaning a hip on the counter.

At first the blond seemed to be studiously ignoring him. "Omelets," Steve finally replied in a soft voice. Tony sighed and patted the big guy on the back as he moved to sit at the table and wait.

Breakfast, however, was not to be that morning. A sudden alarm sounded and they both glanced up, surprised.

"What's that?" Steve asked, confused.

"Suit up, Cap. Time to roll out."

In an instant Steve was running for his gear, Tony not far behind.

Just as Tony's faceplate clicked into place, Captain America joined him on the platform at the top of the tower.

"Avengers, something is attacking outside the city. Head them off before they hit the population," Nick Fury's voice buzzed in their ears.

Iron Man wrapped an arm around Captain America's waist and they were off.


	6. Who hit me with a truck?

Author's Note: Thank you so much to my beta ravingbeauty she does such fantastic work.

You're No Hero

Chapter 5 - Who hit me with a truck?

It all seemed to happen at warp speed. Whenever there was a battle, Tony felt like he was running a marathon at a sprinter's pace, and this one was no exception.

They had been the first two to engage the large robotic looking things that were filtering in from an interdimensional rift. When things were beginning to get a little hairy, the cavalry appeared. Thor was the first, arriving in a whirlwind of booming laughter and lightning. Tony puffing a small, relieved chuckle, glad to see the ridiculously over-the-top demi-god. Several minutes later a plane containing the others touched down.

Blasting around to draw the attention of one of the larger beasties, Tony managed a joke. "Family reunion today," he grunted.

The others groaned – all except Steve. Tony was pretty sure the soldier gave him a wide grin.

With the new arrivals the balance tipped in their favor. Knocking out one more, Tony turned to survey the field from above. Hulk was having a grand day, smashing anything that got close; out in the well-forested area there was nothing to really worry about destroying.

Tony, though, found his eyes drifting to Steve; it was bad habit he had, but the man was a living legend. Watching him fight was amazing. Military history geek that he was, Tony could almost picture the blond standing toe-to-toe with Hydra.

In the middle of his musings, Tony spotted the danger. A wrecked machine was going to leave one last parting gift before dying completely – and Steve was going to take the blast full in the back.

Tony was there in an instant. Without really thinking about it, Tony put himself between the soldier and danger. The laser taking him full in the chest before he really knew what happened. Over the ringing in his head he could hear the others yelling.

One voice, however, overpowered the rest. "Tony!" Steve screamed.

The blast had been hard, jarring his chest. He wanted to assure Steve he was ok, but he was having problems catching his breath, the world growing faint and distant around him.

Tony collapsed to the ground, arc reactor dark and still.

Captain America hadn't seen the danger until Hawkeye yelled a warning at him over the commotion. By the time he had turned, there was a familiar suit of armor between him and the threat. He could only watch in horror as the blast sent Tony reeling backwards.

Steve was sure he yelled out at the sight, but couldn't remember his words if his life depended on it. A moment later he hurrying toward Iron Man as the suit slumped to the ground.

They all crowded around the downed Avenger, worried. Hulk, in his fashion, ripped away Tony's mask, Steve experiencing a serious bout of déjà-vu. Slowly he knelt gently touching the darkened reactor. He knew what that absence of light meant – light meant life.

"Damn it, Tony!' he hollered and the Hulk roared.

Nothing.

Steve was beginning to panic. This was not happening. Tony could not be dying now, not when… he cut off that line of thought abruptly.

"I am not letting you get out of this that easily," Steve murmured as he pulled his shield upward and brought it down with tremendous force on Tony's chest.

Whether it was calculated or through sheer dumb luck, he jarred the reactor enough to start up. Flickering and weak before beginning to hum steadily, Tony came to with a groan of pain.

"Oh, Christ!" Tony moaned, rolling to his side coughing weakly. When Tony gasped, Steve was sure the deep, shuddering breath was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. Around them, there was a collective sigh of relief from the others. "I know I wasn't kissed that time… but who hit me with a truck?" Tony wheezed; his chest hurt like hell.

"After you went into cardiac arrest, our fearless leader performed chest compressions," a soft amused voice spoke. Banner, Bruce once more, casually shrugged into a shirt Natasha passed him.

Tony raised his brown eyes to meet Steve's blue. "You hit me in the chest with your shield, didn't you?" Tony choked out.

The soldier just nodded happily as he moved to help Tony stand. Almost shaking in relief now, Steve didn't even feel all that bad when he saw the black eye, now much darker than before.

Tony moaned, wanting to double over in pain. Steve had definitely broken a rib or two even through his armor.

"Well, kids, we done here?" Tony asked as the group looked around at the mess of parts and machines that surrounded them; nothing was moving.

"It would appear so, Man of Iron," Thor boomed as he clapped him on the back; Tony bit the inside of his mouth to keep from yelping in agony.

"Right. Well, you guys coming over for dinner?" Tony asked as he breathed shallowly, trying to recover himself. There was a general chorus of agreement as the other Avengers decided join them at the Tower.

As they began walking towards the plane, Steve hung back. "Tony… thank you," he whispered, setting a gentle hand on his arm.

"Thank you for giving me a jump start," Tony returned cheekily. "You going with the kids? I'll see you at the tower, I need JARVIS to help pull the armor off."

Nodding, Steve hurried towards the others. "See you at home," he called out over his shoulder.

Tony grabbed his mask and launched into the air.

-#-#-#-

Though Tony's body protested the smallest movement, he still managed to reach the tower before the others. The lack of an audience didn't discourage him from talking, however, as he whined and moaned continuously while the dented metal was pulled from his battered frame.

"Need to get this sorted out, JARVIS," he wheezed once he was free from its confines.

"I will see what I can do, sir, though perhaps you shouldn't get so close to Captain America's shield in the future," JARVIS advised in his imperturbable monotone.

Tony nodded, teeth gritted; it was sound advice. "I'll file that away, JARVIS."

Without the unyielding metal holding him together and upright, Tony managed three steps before deciding maybe he'd just sit for a moment. His uncooperative legs, however, gave out faster than he anticipated, stranding him in the middle of the floor.

Maybe he'd just have a little lie down instead. It sounded like a wonderful idea as he settled on the cool marble. He moved to stretch out on the floor, giving a small blissful moan as he relaxed on his back. Sweet mercy, it felt good.

Tony chuckled painfully as he thought of Steve, endearingly sweet and honest. "Loving Captain America is tough business," he murmured philosophically.

Suddenly tired, Tony closed his eyes; he'd just rest a minute then go down and play the put out host. Already wishing it was just he and Steve again, settled on the couch and watching a movie, he fell asleep with a smile…

-#-#-#-

Downstairs the others were exploring the new digs with loud enthusiasm. Steve played gracious host and showed them to their rooms. Each suitably impressed with the accommodations, they agreed to clean up and meet in the kitchen.

The blond super soldier hurried to shower and change, torn between being happy to see the others and sad that he and Tony were no longer on their own. "Don't be silly, Rogers," he chastised himself. Maybe this was for the best; with so many people around there wouldn't be so much temptation.

He trotted down to the kitchen, chuckling when he saw the remains of the breakfast they never ate; half smiling at the sight of Tony's cup of coffee, full and cold, sitting on the table.

Dr. Banner was the first to join him, looking much better now that he was clean and shaved. "Hello, Captain," he said mildly. "How are you getting on?" he asked conversationally.

Steve shrugged, fussing with the dishes, "Good, I've been watching the History Channel series that Tony has." He didn't see Bruce grin knowingly.

"Where's the food?" Hawkeye asked as he joined them, Natasha on his heels.

As Thor strode in the kitchen turned to utter chaos. "Captain! Bring mead and sustenance!"

With much laughter and shouting Bruce took over cooking, serving the fruits of his time in India.

Steve found himself swept up the feeling. It was like being with the boys again – the bonds forged in conflict, the connections with comrades, these were things he understood.

With all the excitement and noise it wasn't until some time later that Steve suddenly realized they were missing one of their number. He looked up sharply, a habit he had when he was talking to the Tower. "JARVIS, where's Tony?" he asked, suddenly worried.

"He is here, Captain, upstairs on the landing pad," the voice answered politely.

Steve was already up hurrying from the kitchen as the others glancing at one another, each feeling perhaps a little guilty that they hadn't noticed the man missing.

Steve flew up the stairs, finding the room dark and silent. "Lights!" he called as the room was immediately illuminated. Blue eyes scanned worriedly, not spotting Tony on the couch or in one of the chairs. Panic beginning to rise as he panned beyond the furniture, almost missing him at first glance. The worry increased when he finally saw him unmoving, sprawled across the floor.

At first Steve's brain didn't want to register what he was seeing. He was by the other man's side in an instant, kneeling as he reached out a trembling hand to touch him.

Then the others tumbled through the door, shocked to see the prone form on the floor.

"Oh God, Tony…" Steve whispered.

Awakened by the noise, Tony turned his face towards the voice, blinking sleepy eyes. "Oh… hey, Steve," he mumbled with a tired smile.

Captain America felt his strength leave him as relief washed through him. Sure it would take some time to recover from the shock he'd been given. Seeing Tony's movement, the Avengers immediately rushed over.

"Stark, why the hell are you lying on the floor?" Clint asked curiously.

"There are far nicer places to sleep Shield Brother!" Thor echoed the sentiment.

Tony cranked his neck to look at the others wearily, "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

Banner chuckled, "You look worse for wear. The blast took it out of you, eh?"

Steve had inched closer, gently laying a hand on his arm. With Bruce's words, Tony felt him stiffen. "Yeah, took a pounding today," he said without a trace of deception. What happened in those wee hours of the morning was between Steve and him alone.

Doctor Banner knelt on the other side of the prone man, checking his eyes, gently probing the bruise on his jawline.

"Ouch," Tony said, glaring. Despite his bluster, though, keen eyes noted the stilted movements of the prone man's breathing. Bruce poked at his chest near the reactor. Tony slapped his hand away. "Damnit, Banner, that hurts!" he hissed. Unfazed the doctor began pulling up his t-shirt. Tony grabbed the hem and tugged it back down. "I'm fine, I was just resting," he insisted.

The small tug of war went on a few seconds before Steve gently removed Tony's hand. "Let him look…" he mumbled.

Tony glanced at him, Steve's big blue eyes pleading – as if he could say no to that. Grudgingly he allowed Bruce to pull his shirt up.

Curiously the other three approached, peaking over the shoulders of Steve and the doctor. There was a round of murmurs and hisses of sympathy as they saw the nasty bruise spreading across his chest. So dark it was black, it matched the shape of the Cap's shield.

"You broke your ribs," Bruce commented.

Tony rolled his eyes, "Thanks tips any other observations?" Tony glanced to Steve; the man looked stricken as the comments from the others only fueled his guilt.

"Well, I'll bind you up so you can move around. Is there a first aid kit?' Bruce asked after he finished his inspection. Nodding, the dark haired man slowly sat up as Steve steadied him.

"Well, excitement's over," Clint announced as he glanced at the others. "Let's go watch a movie."

Natasha nodded as Thor let out a booming laugh, "I enjoy watching the miniature people tell stories."

After the three left, Steve helped Tony to stand while Bruce went to grab the first aid kit stashed in the kitchen.

"We'll meet you down there," Tony called to the doctor before turning to Steve. The blond had his mouth open, about to speak. Tony knew exactly what he was going to say, though, and covered his mouth with a callused palm.

"Nope, don't say it," Tony ordered. "Don't you apologize for saving my life." Blue eyes stared at him as Tony continued, "And as far as I'm concerned, Steve, what happens at night or here between us stays between us." He said the last softly; removing his hand, he watched the play of emotions across those expressive eyes. Tony could almost see him processing the information.

"Ok," Steve said after a moment, giving him a hesitant smile.

Nodding Tony turned, moving slowly towards the stairs. "We'd better go so Bruce can doctor me up."

The bigger man followed him closely, steadying Tony when he sagged painfully. Tony leaned into the strong, steady, man beside him. He may have been playing it up a bit, using any excuse to be able to press against Steve. It took longer to get down than necessary as Tony kept milking it, secretly grinning when warm hands curled around his waist, holding him.

When they eventually did make it Bruce was waiting for them, supplies out. "Strip," he commanded.

Tony feigned shock, "You haven't even bought me dinner."

The good doctor rolled his eyes as the injured man eased off his shirt. Tony sat as straight as possible while the tight tensor bandages were expertly wrapped around his ribs.

To distract himself Tony scanned the kitchen with brown eyes. "You had dinner without me!" he accused, looking between the two.

"There's plenty left," Banner gibed, fastening the bandages.

"Feel like a mummy," he mumbled, smiling at Steve as he set a full plate before him.

"You'll live," Dr. Banner said cheerfully. "It's going to hurt like a bitch, though."

"Your bedside manner needs some work," Tony said grumpily eating slowly. Bruce tidied up the kit and headed in to join the others; leaving Steve and Tony sitting in companionable silence.

"Crazy with everyone here, isn't it?" Tony commented.

The man beside him nodded. "Kind of wish it was just us again," he said softly.

The owner of Stark Tower smiled at him – not a smirk or a grin, but a genuine smile. "Me, too…"


	7. Wasn't sure if you'd be up for it

Author's Note: This chapter is a bit of filler, with some tension thrown in for fun. Many thanks ravingbeauty for getting this beta'd up.

You're No Hero

Chapter 6 - Wasn't sure if you'd be up for it

A single dark eye glared balefully at the alarm as it sounded at five, curtains rising to let in the early morning light.

"JARVIS, I don't want to run today. I'm tired and I hurt…" Tony whined, curling in on himself further.

"Shall I let Captain Rogers know, sir? He is already up and moving."

He groaned again. "Shit!" he growled throwing off up and out of bed, mumbling and cursing the whole time. Movements stiff and slow every part of his body in agony.

Any sane man would get into bed and rest… it'd be even better if a certain blond bombshell would get in bed with him. Tony grinned at the thought, easing on his jogging clothes. Any sane man would go back to bed; then again, no one had ever accused him of being sane. Besides, who could resist Steve? He'd come to cherish morning runs with the man. They would laugh and talk; Tony would show him more of the modern city and Steve would relate tales of the past or point out things that had not changed at all.

Dressed in his base layer, he paused, sighing a little as the compression material held his chest a little tighter. Next was a pair of red baggy shorts and a light blue t-shirt he always wore running, the one with Captain America's shield. After tugging on his wool cap and shoes, he carefully shuffled down the stairs, stretching his arms as he went.

Steve was already waiting for him by the elevators, wearing modern running gear.

Over the past month Tony had managed to update Steve's clothing; he had gotten him a blue shirt like his own black base layer, and the big man had adopted his habit of wearing a t-shirt over it. He blended in now when they went out, yet Tony somehow missed the old PT gear.

"Morning," Steve smiled. "Wasn't sure if you'd be up for it."

Tony had to bite his tongue at the raunchy comment that wanted to spill out, "Well, take it easy on me this morning, yeah?"

-#-#-#-

By the time they had returned the rest of the Tower was up.

Laughing, they stepped off the elevator a sweaty mess. Despite Tony's plea for mercy, his competitive streak hadn't let the big man get away with anything and now his entire form was protesting. He knew the second he stopped he was going to seize up completely.

The others were in the kitchen eating breakfast when they walked in and Tony went to make his morning coffee.

"You two went out for a jog?" Natasha asked casually, looking between the two.

Tony snorted. "Nope, out having crazy man sex in the park," he said sarcastically, feeling bad when he saw Steve's red face. "Sarcasm. Sorry, Steve."

Steve nodded, seeming to understand, as Tony headed out the door with a wave, coffee in hand. Used to Tony's habits now, Steve thought nothing of his abrupt exit as he got his own beverage and picked up the morning paper, settling with the others at the table.

"Well, you two got close." Clint gave him an inscrutable look.

Captain America shrugged. "I guess so, I've been here over a month now," he said causally, trying to hide his blush with the paper. The others shared a meaningful glance.

"So what's up today?" Bruce asked as he finished his toast.

"Training and then some recon per Fury's orders," Natasha said briskly.

Bruce nodded, "Headed to the lab Tony's set up for me." He seemed eager; it had been a while since he'd had access to such sophisticated technology.

Thor grunted, "I must see to the rift between dimensions."

Steve felt suddenly small at Thor's proud look. He had nothing to do… he didn't even have a job. He just sat around waiting for a call. He cleared his throat trying to push away those thoughts. "You plan on officially moving in?" he asked the table curiously; it would be nice to have them nearby.

There was an almost guilty look that passed among them Steve's honest face looked so hopeful and excited.

"Well, we will," Natasha promised. "We just we have a few things left to do yet." She gave him an apologetic smile, "We can only stay a week."

Clint was quick to amend, "We'll be back soon, though."

Bruce, too, seemed to shift a little uncomfortably, "I'm sorry, Steve. I don't do well in crowds… I'm headed to South America on Friday, hitching a ride with those two."

"I must return to Asgard soon as well, for there are rumblings from our enemies. Father needs me to stand with him," Thor boomed offhandedly, dismissing the topic.

Blue eyes blinked, "Oh, ok then."

They headed off soon after and Steve went to his room to get cleaned up, his mind gnawing at him again. He felt completely useless; maybe he should get a job. Snorting at the thought, he shook his head. What could he actually do?

Turning the idea over in his mind, he gathered his sketchbook and headed to the living room. Carefully he set up the next disc, a DVD as Tony called it, and began to draw as he watched the next decade flash by him.

Steve stopped around noon, his perpetually growling stomach at last getting the upper hand. He glanced down at his drawings, shaking his head ruefully at the sketch – it was Tony. Not Tony as a whole, but parts of him – his lips, his hands looking worn and strong, his arc reactor. They were good likenesses; his hands hadn't forgotten how to draw over the years.

His stomach growled again more urgently and he wandered into the kitchen to get something to eat. The place was silent as Steve went about making himself a sandwich and one for Tony. It was normal for him to go down and have lunch in the lab with Tony. He paused, frowning, as he remembered Bruce was here, too.

He loaded up a tray of food and headed to Banner's lab first. The room, like Tony's, was encased by glass and Steve could see him leaning over his microscope, jotting something in a notebook.

As Steve knocked on the door, the older man looked up smiling, "Hey, Steve."

"Thought you might like some lunch," Steve said as he set a plate and glass down before the doctor.

Banner grinned, "Thanks very much, was just thinking I was getting a little hungry."

They chatted a few minutes before Steve said goodbye and headed down to Tony's lab. He didn't knock here, just punched in the code and called out to the man who was standing in the middle of his holographic projections, "Lunch."

Steve sat on a stool and lowered the tray as he watched the other man finished up whatever thought he was on. It was like watching a dance, the way Tony worked. He would move his whole body, spinning projections and pulling them apart.

Tony paused as he noticed the other man eating, watching him. Smiling he headed over and settled beside him. "Lunch? Nice!" Tony exclaimed as he began to eat ravenously. "How's your morning been?" the genius asked. "The others giving you trouble?"

The blond shook his head. "Clint and Natasha are working, Thor's patching up the interdimensional rift, and Bruce is in the lab. They said they weren't staying long; all leaving at the end of the week." Tony didn't miss the disappointment that flashed across his face.

Lunch finished, Steve rounded up the dishes and bid Tony goodbye before he headed back upstairs.

Tony watched him go, pondering for long moments. Something was bothering the man. Not just the others leaving, that was understandable; there were few people in this time he knew, and having them around was a comfort. There was more on his mind. He ran a hand through shaggy dark hair; Steve would tell him when he was ready.

-#-#-#-

By the time evening rolled around, Steve was still feeling rather sorry for himself. In an effort to feel useful he made a nice meal for the Avengers, anticipating they'd be back by six. Feeling accomplished he sat at the nicely set table, hopeful as six came and went.

At six thirty he decided to have JARVIS tell the two he did know about. Both replied that they were in the middle of something and would be up in a while. Broad shoulders slumped dejectedly as he ate alone at the table set for six. He took the time to make plates for the others, putting them in the stove to keep warm before cleaning up the kitchen.

By nine o'clock all Steve wanted to do was go lay in bed, pull the covers over his head, and sleep for days. No one was really going to miss him after all.

He was so far gone in his own self-pity that he almost leapt off the couch when a gentle hand touched his.

"Steve. Earth to Steve, you with me?"

Dark eyes were looking at Steve, concerned.

Tony. His face was bruised and a little swollen, but at that moment he was the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen. He looked dirty and tired, but he was here with a plate in one hand – Steve's dinner.

Tony was about to ask what was wrong when he suddenly found himself enveloped in a desperate hug. Surprised, he juggled the food and managed to set it on the table so he could return the gesture. Confused, he pulled the big guy close, not minding when a warm face was buried against his neck. His confusion turned to alarm when he felt that strong body begin to tremble.

"Hey, now…" Tony murmured soothingly as he smoothed his dirty hands across the broad back. He gently rocked them, pretending he didn't feel the wetness against his neck.

They stayed that way a long while as Tony gently rubbed the muscular back, soothing him softly.

When Steve finally got a hold of himself he pulled back, suddenly embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he said thickly, wiping now red-rimed eyes.

Tony looked at him closely. "What's wrong, big guy?" he asked softly, unable to help himself from running bruised knuckles over now-flushed cheeks.

Steve shook his head, not wanting to burden the man with his thoughts. He was on the brink of saying he was fine when, instead, his mouth betrayed him, spilling out his worries and fears in a complex, disjointed ramble that seemed to sap all his strength.

Tony listened closely to the rambling monologue, piecing together what was really going on. It basically boiled down to Steve having a pity party for himself. He had been needed by others in his own time; now, when the world wasn't in danger he felt like no one needed him. He felt useless and alone. Tony could well understand that feeling.

Finished now, the world's first hero sat slumped and small at the end of the couch. Tony picked up the muscular legs and settled them in his lap. They sat together in silence the TV playing in the background.

"Well, I think you're being silly." Tony said finally, gratified to see the shocked look. Tony fought the urge to take Steve back into his arms and promise him everything. That wasn't what Steve needed right now, though – what he needed was a kick in the ass.

"If you want a job, go for it. I'm sure I could use a drafter in Stark Industries; your drawing is top notch. I'm sure Cyclops would give you a job, though he is a sneaky manipulative bastard. Hell, you could get a job doing comic books." Tony grinned at that one, "That would be neat."

As Tony spoke Steve looked at him, suddenly hopeful, "Really?"

Nodding, Tony raised an eyebrow at him, "As for not being needed, the world needs you, the Avengers need you… and I need you." He said the last in a soft voice, smiling at him warmly; he was wearing his heart on his sleeve.

The tension in the air was thick as the mood changed completely. Steve moved closer to the shorter man, their faces mere inches apart. They said nothing, dark eyes focusing on those lips, as they moved closer.

"Wow, this is fantastic! Did you make this, Steve?" Bruce called out as he walked into the living room, startling the pair on the couch.

Pulling away quickly, Steve once more moved to lie with his feet in Tony's lap, the attempt to look casual undermined by his deep blush.

Tony wanted to thump Banner a good one. He'd been so damn close. As the doctor joined them, Tony shot him a glare before glancing intently at Steve, taking in every detail.

He couldn't help feeling a little smug; Steve wasn't indifferent to him at all.


	8. Steve are you embarrassed

Author's Note: Surprise another chapter! Re-reading this one I remember writing it, always have a soft spot for the first stories I write for a fandom and this one is no exception. Many thanks ravingbeauty.

You're No Hero

Chapter 07 – Steve are you embarrassed to be seen with me?

Steve took Tony's advice to heart.

The very next day he called Fury, who had been more than willing to put him to work. Though Steve wouldn't be able to go undercover like Hawkeye and Black Widow, Fury had a plan for him. There was a secret SHIELD facility in the city that needed an instructor to train new recruits. Steve was to report immediately.

Excited the blond ran to Tony's workshop, bursting in with a yell, "I have a job!"

In the middle of welding, Tony turned off the torch and flipped his visor up, chuckling at the excited man. "Oh yeah, doing what?"

"Training new recruits!"

Tony laughed; he could see Steve doing that and being very, very good at it. No doubt the young ones would be in awe of the man. "When do you start?"

"Ummm… well, I'm heading out now. Not sure when I'll be back."

Nodding, Tony set his gloves aside. "Well, you'll need some wheels then…" he said as he walked to the far side of his lab toward something covered by a tarp. "Was saving it for your birthday, but thought you might like it now," the inventor continued as he pulled the cover off to reveal a fully restored vintage motorcycle, circa 1946, gleaming in the light. "Did it myself," he winked at the soldier, "So you know it'll run."

Steve felt his jaw drop; it was a thing of beauty. "How did… why..." he stuttered, at a loss.

Tony shrugged modestly, a rare thing for him, "Go on, good luck on your first day."

Steve hurried to the machine, running a reverent hand over it. About to get on when he paused and hurriedly crossed over to Tony, pulling the inventor into a tight hug.

"Omphf," the other groaned as his ribs protested the tight embrace.

"Sorry, and thank you… for everything."

Tony shooed him away. "I've got work to do," he said, embarrassed.

Steve was gone with a grin.

-#-#-#-

The week passed in a blur.

News that Captain America would be taking over training had spread throughout the organization like wildfire. It had been a free-for-all as students scrambled, trying to get into his classes. Steve found the work rewarding and familiar, while at night he regaled the others with stories about his classes, the greenhorns a never-ending source of amusement. Best of all though, Steve was feeling more needed in this world.

The only downside was that he and Tony hadn't had a moment alone since that night.

Their morning runs had been invaded by Clint and Natasha and with Steve now working at all hours and Tony in the middle of some big project, it seemed as if they kept missing each other. Steve was disappointed. He missed spending time with the outrageous man, missed being just the two of them.

More than that, though, he couldn't stop thinking about that moment on the couch. So many what ifs chased around in his mind, but the biggest and most persistent was a dangerous one. He wondered what it would be like to kiss Tony.

When Friday came Clint, Natasha, Bruce, and Thor all stopped by SHIELD to say good-bye. For Steve it was a bittersweet farewell; he felt like he was saying bye to family. His own parents having died when he was young, he had filled that gap with friends around him; in this time he now felt like he'd found a family again. Wishing them safe travels, he felt almost guilty for the small part of him that was happy to see them go. After all, he and Tony would be alone again.

Steve wrapped up training early that day to give the recruits some down time, so it was only six when he returned to the now quiet Tower. Strangely giddy as he parked his bike next to Tony's expensive collection of cars.

From the garage Steve made a beeline for Tony's usual spot, frowning when he didn't see him working in the lab. Heading into the main living area he glanced around curiously. "Tony?" he called out.

"In here."

Steve stuck his head around the living room door. The other man was sitting on the couch, waving his hands in the air as he would when he was working with his computer… yet there were no images in the air, or anything else running that Steve could see.

Tony glanced up, lowering his arms as Steve entered the room. As he stood Steve noted the billionaire looked nice tonight. His shirt was black, unbuttoned at his throat, sleeves rolled to his elbows, his dress pants were a deep charcoal, and his shoes… well, he had a bad habit of wearing sneakers with his suits.

"Going out?" Steve asked, trying to subdue the sudden pang of jealousy. Of course he was going out – there was probably some gorgeous girl waiting.

"Yup, we are. Dinner reservations in twenty minutes." Steve nodded, ignoring the crush in his chest. Wait… we? He must have looked confused because Tony was speaking again, "Hup two, solider, better go change."

Steve had no time to think. He showered and changed at top speed, tugging on whatever, not really paying attention. Excited to be going out for dinner with Tony, he was half way down the stairs when a curious thought hit him.

Was this a date?

He paused, frowning. What if it was? He began to panic a little – he hadn't been on a date… not a real one at least. The only time a dame had been with him was when Bucky had tricked them into double dates; even then she usually spent her time trying to vie for his friend's attention. By the time the serum had kicked in he was at war and not so much dating… And Peggy had promised, but it had never happened.

"Ready?" Tony asked casually from where he was standing at the bottom of the stairs and Steve swallowed his nerves and nodded. Worried, Tony frowned as Steve approached, "You ok, Spangles?" he asked. Steve had noticed that particular nickname had become more of an endearment; Tony tended to use it only when they were alone.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine… let's go," he smiled and the pair headed out.

-#-#-#-

The place was upscale.

Steve's eyes widened as he felt suddenly horribly underdressed and out of place. Tony didn't seem to mind, though; he just told the hostess his name. Gushing she showed them to a secluded booth near the back, thankfully not front and center.

"This is a nice place, Tony," Steve said softly, glancing down at the menu.

The other man shrugged. "It had good reviews, thought you might like to try it," he said as he idly flipped through the menu. "Bottle of wine?" he asked, glancing across at the blond. He was well aware that Steve couldn't get drunk – it was an impossibility with his ridiculous metabolism – but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a nice Chianti.

"Sure," he gave Tony a tight smile as he glanced around. Though he noticed, Tony let the oddness slide.

They ordered and chatted idly about nothing in particular as Tony watched Steve with growing curiosity; the man was shifting around, appearing nervous and worried. As Captain America shifted uncomfortably, looking around them, ducking down lower in his seat, Tony finally had to ask, "Steve, are you trying to avoid something?"

Blue eyes looked at him with something akin to shame, "I, umm… I'm… Tony, are we on a date?"

Dark eyes blinked as his heart pounded in his chest. He had kind of hoped Steve wouldn't notice. "Would you like it to be a date?" Tony asked carefully, eyes serious, aware they were entering uncharted territory.

The other man shifted again, looking around, "No, yes… maybe…"

Tony was confused. "Steve, are you embarrassed to be seen with me?" he asked softly, his voice a little tight. He had thought that Steve was interested… maybe he'd sorely misread the situation. Tony was getting ready to backtrack and try to at least salvage their friendship when Steve spoke again.

"I, no! Not at all… I'm just worried …"

Tony cocked his head, "Worried about what?"

"You'll get hurt," he whispered, looking anywhere but at the man across the table.

"Get hurt? Like emotionally?"

Steve was twisting the napkin in his strong hands, "No, physically…"

Now Tony was really confused. Why would he be worried about him getting hur-

The thought abruptly cut off as Tony began to connect the dots. "Oh," he said, eyes wide as things began to come together. "Oh, Steve."

The big man looked miserable, and confused, and downright adorable.

At MIT Tony's first passion had been machines; his second though, had been history. Right now he felt like an utter moron, he should have realized it sooner. "Steve, I know that in your time same sex couples were not accepted. There was a serious taboo people didn't talk about it. Homosexuality was regarded as a mental illness."

Steve's expression was carefully blank. "A couple of times I saw men get taken out back for asking the wrong person," he said softly, confirming Tony's assumptions.

Sitting back, the genius contemplated a moment. This was a difficult topic and one he had to broach carefully, uncertain as to where Steve stood. "Steve, when you were in the army were there ever… did you ever notice any of your own men who perhaps preferred the company of other men?" he asked gently.

The blond headed nodded slowly, "I saw them one night, kissing."

His voice just as soft, Tony continued, "For a long time, the military had a policy called Don't Ask, Don't Tell that prevented openly homosexual people from serving." Tony sipped his wine, "But attitudes have changed, Steve. Homosexuality, or 'being gay,' has never been a sickness. For the most part it's widely accepted today. Recently the military even rescinded Don't Ask, Don't Tell. Hell, gay couples can even marry in some states."

He smiled reassuringly, reaching across the table to take a big hand in his; Steve looked a little shell-shocked. "Steve, may I ask you a personal question?" There was a nod and Tony was suddenly scared, about to take the plunge. There was no turning back. "Do you prefer the company of men?"

There was a long, tense pause.

Steve looked down at the table before giving a slow nod. His face was burning and his head reeling with the new information. It wasn't wrong anymore? "Do… do people still get beat up for it?" he asked dazedly.

Tony waited until Steve looked up and captured the blue eyes effortlessly. "I'm not going to lie to you, Steve, there are still people who hate. Like anything that makes people different, others are sometimes scared of the unknown." Then he smiled widely, giving the hand he held a squeeze, "I'm not too worried, though. I think Iron Man and Captain America can go toe-to-toe with any haters."

At that Steve felt better, calmer, relaxing as the food came. And he was suddenly ravenous. Digging into the meal, he all but moaned in bliss; the steak and shrimp was excellent.

"That good?" Tony was enjoying his chicken parm, still kicking himself for being such a moron earlier. The history set probably hadn't even mentioned the changing attitudes towards the gay community.

"I never had a problem with it," Steve said suddenly, not looking up from his plate. "My best friend Bucky was always taking me out when he had girls and they never looked twice at me. It didn't bother me all that much. Then the war came around and it didn't really matter anymore."

Tony looked across at his dinner partner, "You know, there's been various studies done regarding war and gay men who served."

Steve looked up curiously, "Really?"

Tony nodded, "There's actually a long history of gay men serving their nations, very valiantly. Ancient Spartan warriors always had male lovers. The Sacred Band of Thebes was an entire army made up of men and their male lovers; the idea was that you would fight harder for the man next to you when they were your lover."

Steve looked at the man, completely fascinated; Tony was a wealth of knowledge. "How do you know so much about… stuff like that?"

Laughing, the other man winked, "I have my secrets."

Dinner finished, they lingered over dessert, trading bites of each other's dishes, then finished with cups of coffee. When the check arrived Steve reached for it, only to have Tony snatch it up first, "No way, Spangles. I asked you for dinner, I'll pay."

When the blond man looked like he was going to argue, Tony cut him off, "You can pay next time, when SHIELD gives you your first big paycheck." Laughing, Steve agreed and Tony settled the bill.

They headed out into the balmy New York night, waiting in comfortable silence as the valet brought the car around. "Shall we go for a drive?" Tony asked as the car appeared. Steve agreed, not wanting the night to end.

Throwing the car into gear, they cruised down the road, headed out of the city, no real destination in mind. As Steve sat quietly and enjoyed the cool night breeze, he felt lighter – lighter than he had in a very long time. The world had changed, but not all of it was bad. He was free to love anyone he wanted, to be with anyone he wanted.

"So, you and Peggy?" Tony asked, trying to be as casual as possible.

Steve shrugged. "Sort of," the blond said softly. "Nothing ever really came of it. We never even had a date."

Tony nodded, making sure he looked cool and calm; inside he was dancing.

"What about you and Ms. Potts?"

Tony chuckled, "She is an angel, the sister I never had."

Steve nodded as he stored the information away.

They drove for another hour before returning to the Tower, smiling at one another as they exited the car. That tension was back again, thick and heavy.

"Are you, umm… going to bed?" Steve asked softly, gesturing towards the stairs.

Tony shrugged. "Thought I maybe would work for a bit," he said quietly. Tony was in no rush… he'd waited this long for Steve, he could wait a little longer. The last thing he wanted to do was scare him away by moving too fast. Steve had, after all, just been dealt a shock; it could take some time to get his mind around it.

"Ok, I think I'll turn in," Steve said, looking at the shorter man. Thanks to the serum, Steve was a solid six foot three and had several inches on the other man. Somehow, though, he felt smaller near the genius; Tony's personality was larger than life. "I had a good time tonight, would you… would you maybe want to do it again?" Steve asked quietly.

Tony moved forward a little so their faces were bare inches apart. "Absolutely," he breathed before closing the gap, brushing Steve's lips with his own for the first time.

The kiss was electric.

Steve's lips were soft and pliant, while Tony's were chapped and cracked. It was hesitant, sweet, and chaste, ending a few sweet seconds later.

As they parted, Tony grinned, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Steve murmured, still dazed and hazy from the kiss. After he turned and walked into the bannister, gentle hands appeared, guiding him, turning him. Finally, face flaming, he made it up the stairs without incident.

Tony watched as Steve disappeared around the corner, then headed downstairs. He played it cool until he got to his lab and closed the door securely behind him.

"Yes!" he cried. "Oh God, yes! I kissed him, I actually kissed him."

It was way better than any of his fantasies. Tony walked to the far side of his room where his desk stood, tugging out the picture of Captain America standing in profile, wearing his leather jacket, shield strapped to his back… and the smaller black and white photo of a very skinny kid with a far-off look.

Grinning, Tony spun in his chair, suddenly completely wired. It was time to create.


	9. Ok you want fondue tonight?

Author's Note: Here we are next chapter! Thank you so much for reading and to ravingbeauty for her fantastic beta and patient's with my writing.

You're No Hero

Chapter 8 – Ok you want fondue tonight?

Steve woke, feeling oddly content and excited for the new day.

Last night felt like a dream – there was no way he went on a date with Tony and then kissed him. He smiled up at the ceiling as the alarm chimed, time for their run.

Dressed, Steve headed for the kitchen, only to find the place empty and quiet.

"JARVIS, where is he?" he called to the AI.

"In the lab, Captain," JARVIS answered promptly.

Steve looked surprised. "Has he been there all night?" he wondered aloud.

"Indubitably, sir."

Steve frowned as he headed down to the lab, the door sliding open as he keyed in the code. He was about to call out when the name died on his lips.

Tony was standing before a mass of wires and cables, muttering to himself as he circled his work. Gone was the smooth, well-dressed man of last night. Now his hair was a wild tangle of dark curls. Instead of sneakers, he wore steel-toed work boots, undone and laces trailing. He'd traded in the slacks for an ancient pair of jeans, full of holes and covered in stains, riding low on slender hips.

Steve swallowed thickly as his blue eyes drifted higher. Tony had taken off his shirt at some point and now his lean torso was glistening with sweat and streaked with grime. The bruises across his chest were still present but not nearly as dark as they had been. His reactor hummed steadily, pulsing, just as bright and alive as the inventor himself.

Something hot and heavy shot through Steve as watched the other man. He wanted to run his hands across the planes of muscle, to touch that blue light. Most of all he wanted to kiss him again. He stood staring for long moments, lost in his own erotic thoughts.

Tony finally noticed the other man, blinking in surprise. "Oh, is it morning?" he asked.

Steve didn't reply.

"Hello? Earth to Steve? Come in, Captain America," Tony called as he waved a grimy hand in front of the soldier's face.

Blue eyes blinked as Steve finally tuned in and frowned, "You're bleeding."

Tony looked down at his hands, noticing a few new cuts. "Occupational hazard," he said, grinning at the taller man and shrugging it off. "We running? Could use a break, I'm stuck at the moment."

By the time they returned to the Tower the cloudy morning had given way to rain. It looked like it was going to be a miserable Saturday. "So," Tony said casually, tugging off his touque, "I have little more work to do, but what say we watch movies this afternoon?"

The other man lit up, "Really?"

Nodding, Tony grabbed his coffee headed back to his lab. "I'll see you in a bit."

Steve spent his morning drawing in front of the common room windows, first tackling the dreary New York skyline. Moving on to sketch the Avengers, he perhaps spent a little more time on Iron Man than the others. His hands betrayed him then, drawing the man he'd seen this morning, looking pensive and contemplative as he worked.

"That is one hell of a handsome man," a deep teasing voice said by his ear.

Steve nearly came out of his skin. He hurried to shut the book, blushing deeply. Chuckling, Tony let it go. "All done?" Steve asked hurriedly, tucking his supplies away.

Still laughing, Tony turned and headed toward the couch, "Sure am. What do you want to watch?"

Steve hurried to follow, noticing that Tony's hair looked wet; he must have taken the time to clean up.

As for what movie to watch, Steve had a list he'd been working on in an effort to catch up on modern films. Unfortunately Bruce, Natasha, and Clint had all been adding to it. "Well, Clint said I need to watch _The Departed, _Bruce said _The Thing _is a classic, and Natasha said I have to see _Fatal Attraction." _

Tony sighed; Steve wasn't going to understand a single one of those, and all of them would probably scar him for life. "Ok, well, those are their suggestions. What do you feel like watching?" Broad shoulders shrugged. "Well, what genre?" Tony continued. "Action, comedy, thriller, romance…" he paused when the other man seemed lost.

"There wasn't quite as much selection in my day."

Tony laughed, "You sound like an old man."

The blond grinned back, "I am, I'll be ninety soon…"

Dark eyes blinked, "You were twenty-three – well, _are_ twenty-three," he said softly. Tony suddenly felt rather old.

"Yup," the soldier still sat staring at the rows of movies, thinking hard. He missed the look of sadness that passed across the other's face.

"Why don't I choose?" Tony said, pushing aside his sudden sadness.

They traded places and Tony deftly chose a DVD and cued it up. Settling on the couch, they sat a respectable distance apart as the previews finished and cheery music began to play. As _50 First Dates _scrolled across the screen, Steve glanced at Tony, eyebrows raised.

"I have a soft spot for romantic comedies," the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist confided with a wink.

"Who would have guessed that tough Iron Man…" laughed Steve as he moved a little closer on the couch.

"Shhhh, don't want to ruin my image."

The movie turned out to be really funny and at the same time rather sad, Steve thought. He couldn't imagine not being able to remember the previous day. By the time the credits rolled, Steve found himself seated within the crook of Tony's arm.

"Like that one?" the smaller man asked softly. Nodding, Steve sat pensively. "Well, how about I get some dinner and we watch another one? You can pick," Tony said as he gestured to the shelf. "What do you feel like for take out?" he asked, heading to the kitchen.

Steve's stomach growled hungrily, "Can we get the one with all the dishes that has the spicy chicken?"

The description took a few seconds for Tony to decipher, "Chinese and you want General Tso's… ok babe, no problem."

Steve stiffened, eyes wide as he looked towards the kitchen where he could hear Tony talking to JARVIS and ordering the food. It was the endearment that had caught him by surprise. Had he really just been called "babe?" He was unsure what it meant, but it didn't really bother him. Tony hadn't even noticed what he'd said; it was done unconsciously and without a trace of sarcasm.

"It'll be here in 20 minutes or so. You choose?" Tony asked as he returned, a bottle of beer in each hand.

Steve pulled one out, a title that he had been wondering about for a while. He had been worried at being caught watching it, but with Tony's unabashed confession, he felt like he could just be himself.

He very consciously set up the movie, showing off his know how when it came to the machine. Pleased, he settled back on the couch with Tony.

"_The Princess Bride_," Tony said, glancing at his companion, watching the red flush move along his cheeks. "Nice choice."

After the food arrived they dug in as they watched the movie; Steve asked a few questions here and there, but for the most part was able to follow along. Finished eating, they sat back and settled into the comfortable couch. Steve took a chance and leaned into Tony, tucking his legs under himself. A sinewy arm wrapped around him, warm and comforting.

Feeling content and safe, blue eyes eventually slid closed as he drifted off.

Tony knew the second Steve fell asleep; the large man relaxed into him completely as his breath evened out. Dark eyes looked down at the handsome man in his arms. Smiling softly, he brushed a hand through soft golden locks, content to sit watching the movie to its conclusion.

As the end music started playing he glanced down at the other man again; Steve slumbered on, looking so very young. Tony was loath to move. He didn't want to wake him, but there was no way he'd be able to carry Steve all the way up to his room.

Sighing, Tony leaned forward and softly called, "Steve…" Unable to resist, he softly kissed his nose and cheeks. "Steve," he breathed against sleep-flushed skin. Lips then trailed to the other's, kissing him gently.

Steve felt good, really good.

Waking slowly, he felt the soft brush of lips against his, the tickle of coarse facial hair against his own five o'clock shadow. When slightly chapped lips touched his, he opened his mouth eagerly.

Tony had meant it to be a gentle kiss, sweet and innocent. With Steve's uninhibited response, though, things escalated quickly. Steve opened his mouth, allowing Tony to plunder, hesitantly returning the gesture. Callused hands gently traced the strong jawline as the bigger man moved to sit up. Tony pulled Steve easily into his lap as their kisses grew deeper. Hands moved carefully across large shoulders, down strong arms, feeling defined muscles bunch and quiver under the thin t-shirt.

Tony moved no lower than his waist, though, mindful not to rush; those inexperienced yet enduringly sweet kisses told him everything he needed to know about Steve's prior romantic encounters.

Steve's mind was a mess.

His experiences had been very limited first by his own rather depressing existence, then by the war. He'd been kissed before, usually by very forward women – even back then they had tended to jump him, eager and forceful. At the time Steve was too surprised to do anything back, and then usually someone walked in or by. Anything beyond that…

They broke apart, gasping, chests heaving as if they had just finished their run.

Tony rested his forehead against Steve's, dark hair spilling against light locks.

"Wow…" Steve said dazedly, baby blues closing.

Tony chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down the other's sides. He kissed the soft, swollen lips once more. "It was the cat's pajamas," Tony said, grinning as Steve softly laughed.

"What… what do people call this?" Steve asked curiously, his long fingers moving to run through the billionaire's hair.

Tony kissed one broad palm. "What, making out? Dating?" he asked with a sly smile.

"We called it going steady," said Steve, happy he made a connection.

"Are we going steady?" Tony asked, heart thumping in his chest, wanting to kiss the man again.

Steve nodded bashfully. "I think I would like that."

-#-#-#-

Steve had big plans. Plans he'd been working on for almost a week now.

"What are you up to, Cap?" a familiar blond man asked as he sat down in a nearby chair.

"Planning," he said absently.

"Mission?" Clint hazarded a guess.

"You could say that…"

The archer's perceptive gaze took in the furrowed brow and determined expression; it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. "Planning on seducing Tony, then?" he asked with a sly look.

Steve glared at him, eyes narrowed, though the effect ruined by his furious blush, "Natasha told you, didn't she?"

The other man shrugged, his poker face impeccable, "I never reveal my sources."

Groaning, Steve sat back. "Does everyone know about _that_ conversation?" he asked, afraid to look.

"I would say so, yes," Clint answered promptly. "Well, everyone except Tony."

Steve grunted at that, torn between being grateful that the others had accepted their relationship so easily and annoyed at the relative ease with which they had nosed their way into their love life. Steve still blushed over the way they had found out about him and Tony.

"_Tony!" Steve gasped softly as the other man kissed him under his chin, pausing to leave the smallest of love bites. They were curled on the couch, Steve straddling the man's lap, a movie playing in the background, ignored and long forgotten. _

_They were a week and bit into this new physical relationship, exploring this intimacy. Steve was really enjoying that part. Kissing Tony was wonderful. And now Steve was sitting astride his new boyfriend's lap, gasping and shivering, clutching dark locks as Tony skillfully kissed and nibbled his collarbone._

_In a world of their own, the pair was caught completely off guard by the sudden yell of "Surprise!" from the door. _

_It was difficult to discern who was more shocked – Clint, Natasha, and Bruce, who had dropped by to stay for a bit, or Steve, who had frozen in Tony's lap, kiss-swollen lips open in surprise, a flush of passion high on his cheeks. _

_Tony for his part took it all in stride, looping an arm around Steve's waist and tugging him close in a blatant show of possession. He arched a brow at the others, daring them to make one snarky comment. _

_Bruce was the first to speak, "Well… this is awkward." _

_The billionaire smirked, "Not so much for me… I'm in my own house, making out with my boyfriend." Steve felt a warm rush at the words, still new to him. _

"_Touché," Banner muttered, shaking his head, unable to hide his grin. _

"_Congratulations," said Natasha. Her tone was as deadpan as ever, but her mouth quirked a little. _

_Clint just shrugged, "You going to finish that take out?" _

Needless to say their little session had been cut short as the others spent a great deal of time trying to pry details out of the pair.

Tony had answered the very bare minimum, refusing to disclose every detail of their personal lives. He had drawn a line that night – their business was their business and their relationship was only between them. He hadn't said it in so many words, but he'd made it clear enough. Apparently, despite what the media would have them believe, Tony was an intensely private person.

Steve had been grateful. He too was a very private person and, despite reassurances, was still a little hesitant about being together openly with a man.

That little episode had been almost two months ago, and since then they'd been on numerous dates, they'd fallen asleep curled together on the couch, they'd cuddled, kissed, and made out… and it had all been amazing.

Yet they had gone no further.

They'd come close a few times, but every time Steve had sort of frozen up, unsure if he was ready to take that final plunge. Sex was… sex was a great unknown to him. Sure, he understood the mechanics of the thing, having spent a very red-faced afternoon using the electronic book that Tony had shown him. When it had come down to it though, he'd chickened out. Tony had been very understanding.

"So when's the big plan taking place?" Clint asked.

Steve gave him a withering look, "None of your business, Nosey Nate."

The other man chuckled, "Going to take Natasha's advice?"

Captain America closed his eyes, unable blush any darker than he already was. The woman had been rather graphic in her advice to the big, innocent blond, recommending everything from what he should wear under his clothes to what he should do to Tony.

As far as the planning stages had gone, Steve was still looking for the opportune moment. Plus Clint, Natasha, and Bruce had been here ever since that night. Not that he minded, he just sort of wanted privacy to… fondue.

"Well, thought you might like to know that Natasha, Bruce, and I are flying out again this afternoon. Won't be back for a while."

Steve feigned disinterest, "Oh yeah? Mission?"

Clint nodded, "Be gone a week minimum." The stoic archer stood, clapping him on the back, "Good luck."

Steve waited until he had left before scrambling off the couch. This was too perfect! It was Saturday, so no work. Well Tony worked everyday, but he was pretty sure he could easily convince the man to take the night off.

Steve could barely get the code punched in he was so excited. "Tony?" he called, not seeing the man walking around in his projections. The computer was on, though, calculations running across the screen, things Steve would probably never comprehend. It amazed him sometimes that the sarcastic, eccentric man could do those computations in his head if need be.

"Under here, babe," Tony called.

Steve still blushed at the pet name; he'd never told Tony about that first night he'd said it. He heard the roll of wheels and knew Tony was working on one of the cars, a new – well, old – one he had recently acquired.

A minute later Tony appeared wearing coveralls, the arms tied about his waist, his white tank top stained and dirty. The man himself had grease across his face.

He looked really good.

It made Steve's breath catch in his throat and his smile grow a little wider. It also firmly resolved his plan for the evening. Tonight for sure.

"Tony," he said breathlessly.

His boyfriend stood with a smile, "What's up?"

Blue eyes studied him for long moment. "Tonight," Steve blurted out, and a dark brow arched. "Tonight I want to… let's…. you and me…." he was stumbling all over himself, his mind and mouth not functioning the way he wanted.

Tony, who'd thought he'd become rather good a deciphering what the big guy was talking about, wasn't figuring this one out. "You and me?" he gently prompted.

"Fondue!" Steve yelled, suddenly blushing.

Perplexed, Tony nodded, "Ok, you want fondue tonight?"

Steve eagerly nodded.

"No problem," Tony said. He was still at a loss, but that wide genuine smile made his heart race and his arc reactor glow warmly.

Steve pressed a hard kiss to his mouth – a kiss far too brief in Tony's opinion. "Thank you," he breathed before turning and all but running from the lab, leaving a confused, half-hard Tony in his wake.

Several minutes after the soldier left, JARVIS spoke, "Dr. Banner to see you, sir."

Nodding Tony tossed away the towel he'd been using to wipe dirty hands. "Let him in," he called as the door opened with a hiss. Only Steve had the pass code; he didn't want everyone just waltzing in. "Banner, what can I do for you?"

The man walked in with a wave, "Just passed a determined-looking Captain…"

Chuckling Tony leaned a hip against his workbench, "Yeah, he just ran in here saying he wanted fondue tonight."

"Fondue?

"Yeah, no idea what he meant."

"Maybe he just really likes bread and cheese."

Chuckling, Tony shrugged.

"So, things going well between you two then?" Bruce questioned.

Tony nodded and narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "What do you know that I don't?"

Laughing, the older man held up his hands in surrender, "I am not at liberty to say. What I will say, though, is that Clint, Tash, and I are leaving this afternoon… and Steve is aiming to surprise you."

That was rather welcome news. "Big SHIELD mission?"

Banner shrugged, "For the others. I'm just sightseeing. Why not go around the world on their dime?"

Tony snorted, "Well played, Banner."

The doctor grinned, "Well, just wanted to thank you for the hospitality, and good luck tonight."

The men shook hands, and Tony bid him a good bye. Turning back to work he called out, "JARVIS, make some reservations at a place that does a good fondue."


	10. He'd completely messed this up

Author's Note: For this story we are pretending Howard never explained what 'fondue' meant so that's what makes this sweetly adorable!

Thanks to ravingbeauty for once again her fantastic work.

You're No Hero

Chapter 9 - He'd completely messed this up

Steve stood before the mirror in his room, looking at his reflection rather dubiously.

It had taken much longer than he'd anticipated to dress, mostly because he was afraid to leave his room wearing something so out of character.

His dress shirt, a deep blue, was too small for his frame. It was tight, accenting every muscle in his upper body, the first couple of buttons undone to expose the strong, bronzed neck. His dark jeans were snug, bordering on indecent, and his black shoes were so well buffed you could see your reflection in them. Under all this, however, was what was really making him blush. Normally a boxers man, he was wearing very tight, snug, bikini briefs in a bright red. They were absolutely indecent.

"Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark would like to know if you are ready or if you require more time. There is no rush; the reservations can always be postponed."

Steve took a deep breath, "No, JARVIS, I'm coming now." He took a deep breath… It was now or never. He headed down to meet his boyfriend, spotting Tony standing at the bottom of the stairs. He was dressed impeccably, as always. His bright white shirt contrasted with his dark looks, his jeans were dark, and for once he was wearing nice leather dress shoes.

Steve was halfway down when Tony glanced up to greet him. The look on his face was worth all the worry he'd put into dressing.

Tony's brain shut down. The man was sex on legs – Bruce hadn't been kidding, Steve was definitely up to something… and Tony was more than willing to let Steve have his way with him.

The hunger in the dark eyes made the blond shiver in anticipation.

"You look amazing," Tony mumbled as he pulled the man close, sharing a chaste kiss – any more than that and there was no way they'd make it out of the Tower.

"Thank you," Steve said quietly. As a light flush crossed his cheeks, a slightly cool hand clasped his warm one. Tony always seemed to be a little cooler than was normal, but Steve was unsure if it was Tony himself or because Steve was always warm. Made chatty by nerves, he asked softly, "Tony, have you noticed you're always a little cooler than me?"

As they headed down in the elevator, a callused thumb idly rubbed Steve's knuckles. "Hmmm, side effect of this," Tony answered as he tapped the blue glow of his chest. "My circulation is slower, but you'll keep me warm, won't you, babe?" He grinned at Steve, lifting their linked hands to kiss Steve's fingers.

Outside Steve looked at his boyfriend in surprise when they were picked up by a limo.

Tony shrugged, "All for you."

Steve had never been in anything like it before. He tried not to gawp at everything as he settled beside Tony and smiled all the way to the restaurant.

As they exited the long black car, Tony spoke quietly, "JARVIS said this was the place for fondue." He smiled at Steve and took his boyfriend's hand once more, missing the look of perplexity that crossed the handsome face.

Entering the restaurant, Steve noticed the stares that usually followed the celebrity Tony Stark were in fact following him instead. "What is everyone staring at?" he asked, glancing around as they headed towards their table.

"Probably wondering the same thing I am," Tony paused, turning to wink at the surprised looking man. "If you're wearing underwear under those ridiculously tight jeans."

Steve gave a strangled noise as he fell into the booth, his face as red as a tomato.

Grinning widely, Tony chuckled, "So, are you?"

Steve buried his head in his arms, not deigning to reply.

Still laughing, Tony ordered them drinks and, as requested, fondue. By the time Steve had managed to collect himself, their drinks had come. "So, word on the street is the Tower is once more empty of anyone save us," Tony said slyly.

Steve nodded, "Yeah, they left this afternoon."

They chatted a bit more about nothing in particular until a large pot with a flame under it was delivered to the table, followed by a bowl full of bread.

"What's this?" Steve asked intrigued.

Tony arched a dark brow. "Fondue, babe," he said softly.

Steve's eyes widened. "You mean… I thought… it's not…" he trailed off, looking bewildered.

Worried now, the shorter man reached across the table to take one of Steve's hands in his. "You…?" he asked gently. Steve looked very confused, an expression Tony hadn't seen on the man's face since the first weeks after being thawed. Tony watched as Steve seemed to visibly slump, shrinking in defeat.

Something had gone wrong. In his naivety Steve had terribly misunderstood. He'd completely messed this up, he thought as he looked morosely across the table at Tony.

"Steve? You ok? Do you want to go home?" Tony asked gently.

"I messed up," he confessed quietly.

"No, you didn't. Tell me what's wrong and we'll fix it." Tony gave him a warm smile and Steve wanted to lunge across the table and hug him tightly. This wonderfully patient man, Steve thought as he squeezed the hand holding his tightly.

Steve decided he might as well come clean. "I got confused, I tho-" he was cut off by a sudden frantic beeping from Tony's pocket.

"Uh oh…" Tony mumbled as he tugged out his phone. He had it up to his ear in a heartbeat. "Stark," he answered briskly, listening for a minute. "Yes, he's here…" another pause. "Where?" before seconds later, "On our way." He hung up and they were already moving out of the restaurant. "Time to rock and roll, Cap," he said as they hurried to the limo.

"Where are we going?" Steve asked as Tony pulled out his bracelets.

"Outside of town again. I guess there's another rift close to the last one."

With no time to get anything save his shield, Steve grabbed onto Tony as Iron Man's faceplate slid down.

-#-#-#-

They were on their own this time.

The rift that had opened had closed by itself and there really weren't all that many creatures, but it was dark. There weren't many lights this far out, Steve noted as he tossed his shield with a grunt, watching as several of the creatures fell.

"Ok, Spangles?" Tony asked affectionately as he pulled the metal head off a strange-looking thing.

"Yeah, Tony," Steve answered as another oddly oblong beastie fell with a high-pitched whine. Now there were only three left that Steve could see. Wanting to get these things knocked out, he gave a hard throw, cutting through soft underbellies and dropping them like flies.

"Got you," he said smugly as he deftly caught his shield, hearing yet another rip. His too small, too tight shirt had not been made for this type of activity. Steve finally tugged it off with a disgusted sigh as he heard a wolf whistle in his ear.

"Nice," Tony commented.

Flushing, Steve shook his head and glanced around to make sure they were indeed alone out here. He looked up at the other, feeling bold. "Wait until later…" Steve said, smiling widely despite the flutter of his heart.

Tony fell out of the sky in shock, a shot of lust running though him. "Later…?" he mumbled. Touching down nearby he walked over to the half-naked man. Steve was looking all kinds of fantastic standing shirtless in the moonlight, holding the shield.

Tony grinned as his helmet pulled back and he headed over, "Well, I think I earn-"

Steve looked over and frowned as his boyfriend went silent, an odd expression on his face.

Tony trailed off, eyes wide. Behind the tall blond was a giant metal something in its death throws, rose off the ground aiming right at Captain America. Tony rushed forward firing as he went, but the thing managed to get a shot off before falling to the ground, a smoking hole through its head.

Tony had always thought those slow motion scenes in movies where time seems to stand still were complete shit. Now though, as he raced towards the man of his dreams, the world seemed to stop altogether. He watched helplessly as that frown turned to an "o" of surprise as suddenly a long metal pole impaled that broad chest.

"Tony!" Steve's lips formed the word, but whether he yelled it or not the other man was unsure. Blue eyes rolled back as he slumped to the ground.

The world spun back into motion and Tony was there, catching his boyfriend. "Steve, you stay with me," he whispered as he gathered him close; he was not going to let him die. Pushing aside his terror, he easily lifted Steve's weight with the suit, taking off at high speed for SHIELD.

-#-#-#-

Tony's arrival with the bleeding, unconscious Captain America caused a great deal of chaos.

He hadn't wanted to let go of Steve, causing the doctors and nurses to yell at him and each other as they hooked up machines. It was all pointless noise.

The man in his arms was unnaturally pale as his blood pattered on the too-white floor and that bar of metal jutted grotesquely from once solid skin. As if he was some outside spectator, Tony saw himself placing the limp form on the gurney, watching it disappear behind swinging doors.

The commotion gone, Tony stood motionless for long moments, completely lost in the deafening silence. He wanted to yell in rage, break every goddamn piece of furniture in front of him, blast this fucking place to bits. His mind rebelled at the thought of waiting idly by… but his heart was telling him it wouldn't help.

"Tony?" Fury was before him, looking very grim and drawn. "They took him into surgery, it's going to be a while… you may want to clean up," he said quietly.

Tony looked down at his armor, finding it now smeared with blood, darkening as it dried. He shook his head trying to clear it. "I'll go clean up," he said distantly; there were no sarcastic comebacks, just a thousand yard stare.

Numb, he washed his suit and packed it away before showering and pulling on borrowed SHIELD sweats and t-shirt. Returning to the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, settling in for the long haul. Fury settled down to wait with him, at some point handing him a cup of black coffee.

The pair waiting as the night faded into morning, Fury left again to work, giving the genius a pat on the shoulder.

Tony waited on.

"Mr. Stark?"

He jolted awake, blinking in confusion before the events of the previous night crashed back to him. The pain in his chest making his breath hitch, "Yes?" he asked, voice husky from sleep.

"He's out of surgery now. It all went well, no complications. He's a very lucky man, it missed all vital organs." The doctor was pretty, Tony noted absently, but he was barely hearing her; all he wanted was a simple little phrase. "He's going to be just fine, Mr. Stark," she smiled at him.

That was the one.

He leapt out of the chair, grinning like a mad man. "What room?" When she pointed to the second door on the left he was already gone.

Tony ran, slipping on the clean floor. Steve was there, lying still and pale on the narrow bed, that looked far too small for him. Tony's breath came sharp and painful as he walked into the sterile room. Like a moth drawn to the flame, he was by Steve's side, watching the big chest rise and fall.

With every movement the anxiety and fear began to lift. Steve was going to be ok. Legs suddenly shaky, Tony sat heavily in the nearby chair. After staring at the still profile for long moments, he reached out gently to take a large hand in his own, shaking his head ruefully.

"You scared me, Spangles," he whispered, kissing Steve's knuckles gently. As he leaned back in the chair he held the hand tightly, watching the machines beep steadily, telling himself again and again Steve was going to be just fine.


	11. Something was different tonight

Author's Note: Only one more to go and it's a hot one, so much fluff it makes my teeth hurt! Ha!

Thanks to ravingbeauty for her hard work!

You're No Hero

Chapter 10 - Something was different tonight

Blue eyes blinked slowly.

Steve frowned; his eyes felt gritty and heavy, his mind fuzzy and hazy… What had happened? Where was he? Brow furrowed, he turned his head slowly to take in the overly bright white room and the machines… he was in a hospital.

Flashes of partially remembered images filtered through the haze. They had been in a battle, he and Tony. "Tony," he whispered, moving to sit up and moaning as pain pulled across his chest.

The noise roused the dark haired man slumped against the bed. "Steve?" he mumbled, blinking as he sat up stiffly, his back protesting the prolonged uncomfortable position.

The blond head turned to look at the tired, drawn looking man. There were dark circles under his eyes, but he looked alive and well.

"Hey darlin', how are you feeling?" Tony asked with a sleepy smile.

Steve finally made it to a sitting position and returned the tired smile. "Sore, what happened?" he asked, still not able to piece everything together.

"One of those fucking monster machines got you through your chest." Tony tried to make light of the incident but Steve could see it in his eyes, he'd been worried. Steve's free hand – the hand not currently gripped by both of Tony's – lifted to touch the thick bandage.

"They said it missed all your vitals and you're healing at top speed, thanks to the super soldier serum," Tony explained.

Nodding, Steve looked at him ruefully, "Guess we didn't really get to fondue."

Laughing lightly the shorter man got up and sat on the side of the bed, leaning in close. "Lots of time," he whispered before kissing sweet lips. Tony's pent up anxiety, his night of worry, all came pouring out. He had meant the kiss to be chaste and quick, but once those plush lips gave way to him, and Steve surrendered so easily… it turned hot.

Steve reached up to bury his hands in Tony's thick hair but moved the wrong way, gasping as his stitches pulled. When Steve gasped into his mouth in pain, Tony pulled back immediately.

"Ok?" Tony asked, leaning his forehead against the other's.

"Yeah. Sorry, still healing."

Tony kissed his nose softly. "Nearly lost you, Spangles…" the brunet whispered.

"I'm sorry, Tony."

Shaking his head, Tony cupped a hand around the honest face, tracing a high cheekbone with his thumb, "Glad you're ok. Let's see if the docs will let me take you home."

Steve wanted nothing more than to return to the Tower. He'd spent far too much time in hospitals in his youth, before the serum; there was no love lost there.

Convincing the doctors was easier said than done. Luckily Tony was very persuasive, promising to bring him back ASAP if anything happened.

In the end, though, it was Steve's own remarkable healing ability that allowed him to leave. The SHIELD doctors were impressed the deep interior muscles were already knitting together. He would be better in a week's time, if not sooner. It was fantastic news and the pair left the hospital by early evening.

-#-#-#-

"I can walk, Tony," Steve huffed even as he wrapped his arms around the other's neck. He'd been secretly pleased when Tony had scooped him up, carrying him from the elevator to the living room couch, which was already set up for someone to convalesce.

Ignoring the weak protest, Tony settled him on the large couch. "Thought I'd set you up here while you're on the mend," Tony said as he fussed with the pillows, pulling a duvet over him.

Steve stopped his movements with a gentle hand, "You're tired, Tony. Lie down with me."

Swallowing thickly, Tony slowly nodded; there was no way he was going to refuse that invitation. "I'll put a movie in first," he mumbled, throwing in some comedy before slowly climbing under the blankets, worrying he might aggravate Steve's wound.

After a few moments Tony settled on his back, while Steve cuddled up against his side. Laying his head against the other man's chest, Steve half listened to the movie and half listened to the hum of the arc reactor, sad he was unable to see the light through the sweater the man wore.

Less than an hour later, the last twenty-four hours caught up to Tony. Soon he and Steve drifted off, the pair sleeping soundly in each other's arms.

-#-#-#-

Steve was feeling great.

He stood before the mirror in his room and carefully tugged the gauze off his chest. The wound was completely healed; the only trace that there had ever been an injury was a faint silvery line. He flexed his arms and chest and stretched, finding no pull of pain or catch. Grinning at himself in the mirror, he tugged on a t-shirt and made his way downstairs.

The doctors had been off in their calculations; it had only taken four days for his wound to completely heal, not a week at all. Being genetically modified had its advantages.

After their first night back at the Tower, Tony had unfortunately been called away by work – something to do with new designs that Pep needed yesterday. Steve had looked at Tony curiously as the other man explained the difficulty of being a genius. His mind would move from one idea to another as fast as the ideas would come, not necessarily finishing before a new, better idea came to him.

Now fully healed, Steve had a lost night to make up for. "JARVIS, can you let Mr. Stark know I'll be serving dinner at six?"

"Certainly, sir." Smiling to himself, he headed to the kitchen with a new lightness in his step.

A half-hour before dinner, Steve was ready, dressed to impress in dark jeans and a red polo, the table was set, and dinner was keeping warm in the oven. He fussed about putting the finishing touches on the table, lighting candles, and fixing the plates as he waited, nervous and excited.

"All this for us?"

The voice from the doorway made Steve jump in surprise, banging his knees on the nicely set table. His face a mask of surprise, Captain America stared at Clint, who stood in the doorway looking very amused; behind him Natasha peered in as well.

"Nice," she said with an approving nod. "Looks like you're feeling better."

Bruce was there, too.

At that moment Steve wanted to hit them all.

Freshly showered and shaved, Tony breezed in through the other door. "Sorry I'm lat-" he started then quickly trailed off, eyes bugging out at the sight of the overcrowded kitchen.

"Hi, Stark," Hawkeye said from where he had settled at the nicely set table.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?"

Bruce fielded that one, "We got a call from Fury several days ago that Steve had been badly wounded. He looks alright to me, though."

Nodding, the blond man didn't know how to respond, "I'm fine, all healed."

A sudden crack of thunder followed by a tremendous thump announced the arrival of the last of the Avengers.

"You've got to be kidding me…" Tony mumbled, rubbing his temples and bracing for the yelling that would follow.

"Captain, I heard you were injured!" the booming voice preceded the appearance of the demi-god.

Steve wanted to cry; this was not at all how he pictured this night going.

The dinner for two was not enough for everyone, so they ordered take out and peppered Captain America with questions about his injury as they ate. After assuring everyone he was fine, the soldier seemed to slump further and further as the night wore on; the normally animated man was quiet and withdrawn.

Tony watched him closely, worrying. The others, though, seemed to take no notice or, if they did, simply passed it off as still healing. After what seemed to be forever, dinner was finished and Steve's forgotten meal had grown cold.

"Let us watch the moving pictures!" thundered the god. The others agreed and the group adjourned to the common room.

Steve was slowly following when he was stopped by a familiar hand on his arm.

"Hey," Tony turned him, pulling him close. "What's wrong, babe," he asked, looking searchingly into his blue eyes.

Steve averted his gaze from the intense stare, mumbling something softly.

Tony reached up to cup his face gently, "What was that?"

Large liquid blue eyes looked back at him. "This was not the way I wanted the evening to go…" he said, looking caught between defiance and shame.

Tony smiled, "No? Big plans?"

Steve nodded, "We were interrupted during fondue."

"I still need that story," Tony said with a half smile as he ran a hand through Steve's blond hair. When he pulled his boyfriend close for a kiss, Tony was surprised at the emotion with which Steve returned it.

It was hot, unbridled, and somehow naively sweet. Panting and gasping they parted, staring at each other as their chests heaved. Something was different tonight; there was a tension between them, unspoken and electric. Tony suddenly grabbed the soldier's hand and, with a roguish grin, tugged him away from the living room and down towards his lab.

Back in the living room the others soon noticed their absence. "Where do you suppose they went?" Clint mused with a smirk.

"Probably away from us," Bruce chuckled. "I'm pretty sure we ruined their night."

"I wouldn't be so sure…" Natasha replied with a slight smile.


	12. Epilogue: Fondue indeed

Author's Note: I love this one, still holds a special place in my heart because it was my first ever Avengers fic and it's just so much fluff! So much fluff and smut in this chapter.

Thank you so much to my wonderful beta for getting this done for me, ravingbeauty you are fantastic and wonderful and making my stories that much better. Thank you!

You're No Hero

Epilogue– Fondue indeed

"JARVIS, lock down the lab, would you?" Tony said, never taking his eyes off Steve; the taller man looked a little nervous but resolute.

They came together then, pent up passion spilling over. Steve buried his hands in thick dark hair, moaning a little as rough hands untucked his shirt and slid across warm, tanned skin.

"You know what you do to me?" Tony murmured, kissing Steve deeply and pulling him close. The genius's hands wandering eagerly, feeling muscles quiver beneath his fingers. Steve wrapped strong arms around the lithe body pulling the shorter man close as dexterous fingers gripped his hips.

Tony pushed him back against his workbench, almost losing his composure when Steve arched his hips into his. Kissing the soldier harshly, he pushed back as his jeans suddenly too tight and confining.

As big hands tugged at Tony's t-shirt, they separated just long enough to pull it up over his head tossing it aside; Steve's polo after. Bared to the waist, they pressed hungrily together. Steve giddy and excited was torn between worry about what was to come and the pure pleasure of being touched by the other man.

"Hey," Tony said softly.

Humming Steve leaned into the shorter man, surprised when he was suddenly lifted into the air. Steve sputtered, about to demand to be let down, when he was dropped unceremoniously onto a bed. Surprised, he glanced around; they were at the far end of the lab behind a screen. The bed was nice and soft, but a complete surprise.

"I put this here after my room was ruined during the battle. Thought there might be some call for it again."

Laughing Steve leaned up on his elbows, grinning widely, his well-defined torso flexing. Tony leaned onto the bed with a knee, moving towards him, as Steve watched with hungry eyes.

"You sure, Steve?" Tony asked softly, stopping bare inches away from his face.

Steve reached out and pulled him close, "Yes…"

That was all the permission Tony needed.

Clothing was an obstacle; he quickly pulled off his own jeans, kicking the denim away. Steve's eyes widened at the tight black boxer briefs. They hugged muscled thighs tightly, outlining yet concealing. Blue eyes trailed up the dark trail of hair, across defined abs, up to the glowing blue disc in his chest surrounded by silvery white scar tissue.

Carefully he reached out to touch the lines, circling the outline of the metal. Tony shivered; even that slight touch an incredibly erotic feeling.

"See anything you like?" Tony teased the other man on the bed as Steve's normally slicked back blond hair fell loose across his clear blue eyes.

Steve hummed in agreement as Tony turned his attention to Steve's jeans. Gently undoing the material, Tony pulled them down as Steve raising his hips to help. Tugging the pants free he tossed them away, jaw dropping in shock at the sight before him.

Steve fought his blush as he turned Tony's own words back on him, "See anything you like?" He watched the billionaire's mouth move silently, dark eyes glued to Steve's crimson underwear – well, Steve wouldn't call them underwear. Natasha had called them bikini briefs.

Tony's arc glowed brighter as his heart rate sped up. "Oh, my God…" he whispered as Steve fought the urge to hide himself. Tony couldn't help but stare, Steve was a walking wet dream…

Leaning forward, he was kissing swollen lips hungrily, trying desperately to reign in his lust. Steve was new to this; Tony would go slowly even if it killed him. Through long, sensuous kisses and touches, they lay side by side in bed. Tony allowed his hands to explore leisurely, but was careful to stop at Steve's hips.

Steve, unsure how to proceed, was startled when a cool hand touched him though the briefs. He gasped into Tony's mouth, unintentionally arching as he was rubbed through the taught material. He moaned softly and Tony grinned; Steve was a moaner… maybe he'd be a screamer, too.

Callused hands moved under the fabric then, touching him. Blue eyes widened as Steve gave a strangled cry, no one save himself had ever touched there. The calluses on Tony's hands provided delicious friction, the sensations new and overwhelming. All of a sudden Steve gave a cry as his orgasm overtook him. He gripped Tony's shoulders tightly as he spilled in the other's hand, soaking his briefs. It had been quick and intense, yet unfulfilling, leaving him aching for more.

Embarrassed, he buried his face in Tony's collarbone. "Sorry…" he said very softly as he felt a chuckle rumble through Tony's chest. A soft kiss brushed across his temple.

"Did you want to stop?" Tony asked.

Steve pulled back a little, glancing down at the very visible bulge in Tony's briefs. He shook his head, meeting dark eyes as he boldly reached into Tony's briefs and gripped his rather thick member a little roughly. He kissed Tony hard then, taking the shorter man by surprise, working his weeping member.

Groaning, Tony arched into the fist, the friction a little rough but incredibly good. Tony was hoping for more, though. Reaching out, he stopped Steve. "Not yet," Tony grinned as he moved to tug off the other man's underwear, followed by his own.

Tony was fast losing control. Kissing Steve, he moved to settle between muscular thighs, gently thrusting their erections together. Moaning and grinding, Tony reached for the bottle of lube sitting innocently on the bedside table. Breaking their intense kisses he watched those blue eyes, now dark with need and lust.

Steve was rock hard once more, his erection heavy against his stomach. Holding that gaze, Tony pressed a single slick finger against his entrance, trying to control himself as he watched the emotions flicker across the expressive face of his lover.

Steve squirmed a little at the intrusion; he knew what was coming, had worried about it… but as he watched Tony above him, touching him gently, showing a restraint he wouldn't have imagined possible, Steve decided there and then he was going to break that calm control.

A second finger joined first and he gasped at the newness of it. Strange, but not unpleasant. He found himself lifting his hips to meet the intrusion, pushing the long digits further inside his tight, wet heat. The brunet gritted his teeth and added a third finger, gently stretching the tightness. His other hand gripped the Steve's flagging erection, pumping it in time with his teasing fingers.

Steve writhed and twisted in pleasure. It was good, great… but something told him it could be better. Suddenly the fingers were gone, and Steve opened hooded eyes enough to see Tony rubbing something on himself before moving between his legs again.

Leaning down, the genius engineer claimed his mouth, thrusting his tongue inside as something much larger and blunt was pressed against his entrance. There was a moment of pained resistance before the muscle gave way and Tony began to slide inch by agonizing inch inside. It hurt like hell.

Tony held still for long moments, braced above his lover; kissing Steve slowly, leisurely, trying to ignore the delicious heat surrounding him. He rolled his hips once eliciting a small gasp from the man under him. The pain was fading to a dull throb; now Steve just felt full. Feeling all of Tony so intimately joined with him.

He moaned as Tony moved again.

The genius was losing it. All his good intentions were slipping away. His head was swimming, his vision blurred, Steve far more intoxicating then anything he'd ever had. He was inside Steven Rogers; he was inside Captain America. It was surreal. How long had he fantasized, dreamed, longed… and now here he was.

He began to move, thrusting slowly before gaining strength and speed, watching as the flushed, muscular body beneath him began to writher and gasp, shifting and squirming. With a strength that belied his size Tony tugged the big man up and into his lap, changing the angle.

"Ohhhh!" Blue eyes widened suddenly; Steve gasped and moaned all at once as Tony brushed something deep inside. Gripping the blonds' waist with long fingers, Tony moved again, this time hitting it straight on.

Steve cried out, wrapping his arms around Tony, and they began to move together, finding a natural rhythm as Steve rode Tony. Sweat slick bodies pressed together tightly, accompanied by sloppy kisses and the slick sound of thrusting.

Steve watched the calm collected demeanor of his lover crack and shatter; eyes almost black with lust held him.

Steve was approaching his breaking point again. He could feel it coming, teetering on the edge of something fantastic. His aching erection rubbed between their joined bodies and it was too much. He cried out his lover's name in pleasure, digging his short nails into Tony's back as he spilled between them coating their bellies, shuddering from the intensity of it.

Tony had lost his mind long ago. When Steve climaxed again, he felt rippling muscles clamp down on him intimately. With a final thrust he, too, found his release, fingers digging into those narrow hips almost painfully.

Collapsing back onto the bed, they said nothing, simply relaxing in the afterglow. It was long moments of bliss before either was able to speak.

"Wow…" Steve said, a silly smile crossing his face.

Chuckling Tony pulled him close, pressing a kiss a damp temple. "You're telling me," Tony said, knowing his own face would probably sport a stupid smile for a long while.

They were at loathe to move, languid in the after math. But finally the cooling sticky mess made them separate and Steve watched Tony walk naked to the sink.

"So," the smaller man called out. "What is this fondue business?" he asked, raising a brow at the fair-haired man.

Steve smiled, "Well, it has to do with your father actually."

Tony listened, amused despite himself. It was nice to know that his father had been very human after all.

Steve finished his explanation, feeling incredibly dumb now – fondue indeed. Tony, though, enjoyed it thoroughly; it was a nice story, a naively innocent one, and a glimpse into that time. Snuggled in bed, Steve lay against Tony's chest, listening to the hum of his reactor and the beat of his heart. "Tony," he asked softly, suddenly hesitant.

"Hmmm…?" the dark haired man was drifting, drowsy and content.

"How… I mean… how do you feel about me?" he asked very quietly, feeling the fool for being worried about something like this. He needed to know, though.

Tony was silent a long moment. It occurred to him that he could play it cool, not show his hand, not risk the hurt. Steve wasn't like that, though. He was from a different time… and Tony had been nothing but honest with him. The man simply compelled honesty, and Anthony Stark was going to give full measure.

"Would you believe me if I'd told you I've loved you since I was a kid?" he said finally in the stillness of the lab. Shielded from the world by a screen, cozily tucked away in the warm place, the quiet confession carried an intangible weight. To Tony it seemed incredibly corny, something from one of those romantic movies he was so fond of.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, not understanding. Moving from the bed, the lithe, toned figure padded across the room as the other man admired the flex of his backside.

Tony rooted around his desk briefly before returning to hand him a picture. Curious Steve moved to hold it under the light, smiling slowly when he saw the young boy in the photo. Grinning cheekily at the camera, the child was clad in a child's sized costume of Captain America, holding a homemade cardboard shield.

Tony settled beside him on the bed, looking at the photo contemplatively, "My dad talked about you all the time. He said you were a true hero – one that fought the bad guys, faced certain death, and came out the other side."

He lay back on the bed, smiling when Steve joined him, snuggling close still holding the picture of young Anthony. "I grew up with your stories; they got me through some tough times." He laughed softly, "I wanted to be a hero just like you…"

Steve smiled and Tony kissed his soft blond hair, "I wanted to be you for the longest time. Over time though that changed – that feeling of awe and wonder became something more, something that I thought was beyond my reach."

His tone changed and Steve looked up at him, worried; Tony looked sad as his reactor dimmed a little. "Tony?" he said softly, waiting until he could see dark eyes. "I love you," he said with no guile or hesitance.

Brown eyes blinked in surprise – Tony felt like he'd waited a lifetime to hear that. His chest brightened a little; Steve noticed the light as well, smiling at the reaction. Tony leaned up on his elbow, kissing him slowly and sweetly. Grinning as strong arms slid around him again, he asked, "Ready for round two, Spangles?"

-#-#-#-

6 Months Later

Steve shifted eagerly from foot to foot, barely able to wait while the elevator whisked him to the upper levels of the tower.

"Don't you tell him I'm here, JARVIS, I'm surprising him."

The voice came dryly across the intercom, "Wouldn't dare, sir."

Shaking his blond head, Steve hurried off the elevator, dropping his bag and making for the lab. He'd been gone for two whole weeks, two weeks without seeing his boyfriend. They had been able to talk a couple of times on the phone, but as he was on a training exercise in the middle of nowhere with the recruits, reception was spotty at best. Steve would have never thought he'd be so disappointed to not be able to use the infernal cell phone.

He bounded down the stairs, slowing as he approached the glass wall. There was a figure slumped over the workbench in the lab – no doubt he'd been overworking again. Shaking his head, Steve tapped in the code before entering silently; he was going to surprise his dark haired lover.

He'd returned an entire day early and had already made reservations at the restaurant where they'd had their very first date, having every intention of celebrating six months with his boyfriend. Creeping up behind Tony, Steve was about to reach out and pull him into his arms when he spotted something that gave him pause. Two somethings.

The first was his shield, his old shield… the one he used when he was doing his USO shows. Complete with bullet holes. Where the hell had Tony gotten that?

The other was a leather frame, worn with age. The picture inside was of him, snapped just after the rescue of the POWs, his face turned, looking away. He remembered briefly thinking the picture had looked pretty good when he'd seen it. Then his eyes found the smaller photo tucked in the corner of the frame, making him wince. It was Steven Rogers pre-serum, skinny and malnourished in boot camp.

"Admiring yourself?" the sleepy voice asked.

The blond jumped in surprise, making the other laugh throatily.

"Impaled on your own sword?" Tony teased. Standing, he stretched his sore back and pulled the taller man close for a kiss, "Welcome home."

Steve returned the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly around Tony, inhaling his scent – metal, cologne, and something uniquely him. "I was going to surprise you… but I think you beat me to it. Where did you find these?" Steve asked as he gestured to the shield and pictures.

Tony grinned, "Dad gave the shield when I was young, the picture in the frame I found in a file after he died, and the other one I recently found in your footlocker along with a few other interesting files."

Steve looked at him surprised, "My footlocker?"

Nodding, Tony moved to the far end of the desk, pulling out the steel box, "Where do you think I found your drawings?"

Smiling Steve wandered over. He knelt and dug through the box, finding a spare uniform, spare fatigues… Then he groaned at the sight of the old costume.

Tony winked, "I'm rather fond of that one."

Steve just shook his head. Standing, he gave his boyfriend an amused look – his eccentric, sarcastic, patient, and indescribably kind boyfriend. "I love you," Steve said, forgetting the footlocker.

Tony smiled, "I love you, too, big guy."

Steve pulled him close and was inches from his mouth when surprisingly strong arms wrapped around his waist, lifting him clear off the floor. As he was carried in the direction of the small screen, the laughing blond looked down into the grinning face of his lover. Dinner reservations could wait.

End.


End file.
